BS  2410  .S4 

Scott r  Ernest  Findlay,  1868- 

The  beginnings  of  the  church 


THE   BEGINNINGS   OF   THE    CHUECH 


THE   BEGINNINGS  OF 
THE   CHURCH 


BY/ 

ERNEST    F.    SCOTT,    D.D. 

FBOFES80B   OP   NEW   TESTAMENT  CBITICISM   IN   QUEEN's   THEOLOGICAL  COLLXGE, 

KINGSTON,  CANADA 

AUTHOB   OF   "the  FOUBTH  GOSPEL;   ITS  PUBPOSE  AND   THEOLOGY," 

"the  KINGDOM  AND  THE  MESSIAH,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1914 


Copyright,  1914,  bt 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  September,  1914 


THE  ELY  FOUNDATION 

The  Ely  Lectures  rest  on  the  foundation  estab- 
lished by  Mr.  Zebulon  Stiles  Ely,  in  the  following 
terms : 

"The  undersigned  gives  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dollars 
to  the  Union  Theological  Seminary  of  the  City  of  New  York 
to  found  a  lectureship  in  the  same,  the  title  of  which  shall  be 
The  Elias  P.  Ely  Lectures  on  the  Evidences  of  Christianity. 

"The  course  of  lectures  given  on  this  Foundation  is  to  com- 
prise any  topics  serving  to  estabhsh  the  proposition  that  Chris- 
tianity is  a  religion  from  God,  or  that  it  is  the  perfect  and  final 
form  of  rehgion  for  man. 

"Among  the  subjects  discussed  may  be:  The  Nature  and 
Need  of  a  Revelation;  The  Character  and  Influence  of  Christ 
and  His  Apostles;  The  Authenticity  and  Credibility  of  the 
Scriptures,  Miracles,  and  Prophecy;  The  Diffusion  and  Bene- 
fits of  Christianity;  and  The  Philosophy  of  Rehgion  in  its 
Relations  to  the  Christian  System. 

"Upon  one  or  more  of  such  subjects  a  course  of  public  lec- 
tures shall  be  given,  at  least  once  in  two  or  three  years.  The 
appointment  of  the  lecturers  is  to  be  by  the  concurrent  action 
of  the  Faculty  and  Directors  of  said  Seminary  and  the  under- 
signed, and  it  shall  ordinarily  be  made  two  years  in  advance." 


PREFACE 

The  present  book  consists  of  a  series  of  lectures 
delivered  in  January  and  February  of  this  year  at 
Union  Theological  Seminary,  New  York,  in  terms 
of  the  Ely  Foundation.  For  the  many  kindnesses 
which  I  received  during  my  visit  to  the  Seminary 
I  desire  to  express  my  warmest  thanks  to  Presi- 
dent Francis  Brown  and  the  members  of  the  staff. 
To  Dr.  J.  E.  Frame,  Professor  in  New  Testa- 
ment Literature,  I  am  further  indebted  for  much 
helpful  criticism  of  the  lectures  in  the  course  of 
their  delivery. 

My  object  has  been  to  investigate  the  aims  and 
beliefs  of  the  Christian  community  in  the  time 
preceding  the  advent  of  Paul.  No  discussion  of 
this  dark  period  can  be  other  than  tentative;  and 
I  am  well  aware  that  many  of  my  conclusions  are 
open  to  question.  They  may  serve,  however,  to 
suggest  new  lines  of  inquiry  into  problems  of  car- 
dinal importance  which  have  not  yet  been  ade- 
quately explored.  A  detailed  study  of  that  ini- 
tial period  is  more  than  ever  necessary  in  view  of 
the  more  recent  developments  of  New  Testament 

vii 


vm  PREFACE 

criticism.  Not  a  few  scholars  of  the  foremost 
rank  are  seeking  to  explain  almost  the  whole  con- 
tent of  Christian  doctrine  from  the  Hellenistic 
beliefs  and  practices  to  which  the  new  religion 
was  gradually  assimilated.  It  may  indeed  be 
granted  that  these  influences  were  operative  from 
an  early  time,  and  have  left  deep  traces  even  on 
the  teaching  of  Paul;  but  they  ought  not  to  be 
emphasised  in  such  a  manner  as  to  allow  no  place 
for  a  more  primitive  Christianity.  Between  the 
death  of  Jesus  and  the  beginning  of  the  gentile 
mission  there  was  a  momentous  interval,  in  which 
the  church  grew  up  in  its  native  Jewish  soil,  un- 
affected by  alien  modes  of  thinking.  I  have 
sought  to  concentrate  attention  on  this  fact,  and 
to  estimate  its  bearing  on  the  genesis  of  Christian 
belief. 

In  my  attempt  to  interpret  the  primitive  ideas 
I  set  out  from  the  hypothesis  that  Jesus  imparted 
his  message  in  the  terms  of  Jewish  apocalyptic. 
The  application  of  this  theory  to  the  Gospel  nar- 
rative has  already  led  to  many  fruitful  results, 
but  its  significance  for  the  early  history  of  the 
church  has  not  yet  been  fully  appreciated.  I  have 
tried  to  show  that  the  apocalyptic  conceptions  of 
Jesus  were  normative  also  for  his  disciples,  and 
found  their  natural  outcome  in  the  building  up 
of  the  Christian  community. 


PREFACE  ix 

My  thanks  are  due  to  my  friend  and  colleague, 
Professor  William  Morgan,  D.D.,  who  has  ren- 
dered me  valuable  assistance  in  the  correction  of 
the  proofs. 

E.  F.  Scott. 

Kingston,  Canada, 
March  31,  1914. 


CONTENTS 

LECTURE  PAGE 

I.     The  First  Days 1 

II.     The  Ecclesia 29 

III.  The  Gift  of  the  Spirit 57 

IV.  Jesus  as  Lord 84 

V.     The  Relation  of  the  Church  to  Judaism  109 

VI.     Life  in  the  Primitive  Community   .     .     .  133 

VII.     Baptism 162 

VIII.     The  Lord's  Supper 192 

IX.     Stephen 224 

X.     The  Earliest  Christianity 251 

Index 281 


THE   BEGINNINGS   OF   THE   CHURCH 
LECTURE  I 

THE   FIRST   DAYS 

Christianity,  it  has  been  finely  said,  grew  up 
in  the  dark.  A  few  years  after  the  death  of  Jesus 
it  had  its  roots  securely  planted  and  was  spread- 
ing over  Palestine  and  throwing  its  offshoots 
into  the  surrounding  gentile  world.  It  had  de- 
veloped customs  and  institutions  of  its  own  and 
a  theology  that  was  already  rich  and  many-sided. 
But  the  initial  period  of  which  this  wonderful 
growth  was  the  outcome  is  almost  hidden  from 
us.  Within  a  generation  the  church  had  appar- 
ently lost  the  record  of  its  earlier  history  and 
could  only  replace  it  by  a  few  doubtful  traditions. 
All  had  come  about  so  gradually,  by  a  process  so 
obscure  and  fortuitous,  that  even  the  surviving 
actors  were  now  uncertain  as  to  the  true  course 
and  significance  of  the  events. 

That  first  dark  period,  however,  was  the  most 
momentous  that  has  ever  been  in  the  history  of 
our  reHgion.  It  was  then  that  the  church  came 
into  being  and  was  moulded  into  the  form  which 

1 


2  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

it  has  essentially  preserved  amidst  all  subsequent 
changes.  If  we  would  understand  the  complex 
movement  of  the  following  centuries,  we  must 
try  to  know  something  of  the  influences  at  work 
in  those  earliest  years.  Theoretically,  this  is 
acknowledged  by  scholars;  but  in  practice  they 
have  too  often  treated  the  first  period  as  negli- 
gible, because  it  has  left  so  little  impression  on 
the  records.  Sometimes,  indeed,  they  have  de- 
liberately passed  it  over  in  order  to  enhance  the 
achievement  of  the  Apostle  Paul.  The  original 
disciples,  we  are  told,  had  failed  to  apprehend  the 
real  drift  of  Jesus'  teaching.  They  clung  to  the 
one  belief  that  he  was  the  promised  Messiah,  but 
otherwise  remained  on  the  ordinary  plane  of 
Judaism,  and  would  eventually  have  found  their 
place  as  a  minor  Jewish  sect.  It  was  Paul  who 
rescued  Christianity  and  who  may  almost  be  said 
to  have  created  it.  New  Testament  criticism  is 
now  retreating  from  this  position,  so  long  ac- 
cepted as  self-evident,  that  the  work  of  Paul  was 
altogether  revolutionary.  It  is  coming  to  be 
recognised,  in  view  of  a  more  exact  study  of  his 
life  and  writings,  that  he  owed  far  more  to  the 
primitive  church  than  has  usually  been  granted, 
and  that  his  relation  to  it  was  one  of  substantial 
sympathy.  The  gentile  mission  itself,  it  is  now 
generally  admitted,  was  not  an  innovation  brought 
about  by  Paul.  He  entered  upon  it  when  it  was 
already  well  in  progress,  and  could  only  claim 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  3 

that  he  had  laboured  in  it  more  than  them  all. 
Paul  must  always  remain  the  greatest  figure  in 
the  early  history  of  the  church,  but  the  estimate 
that  would  make  him  the  sole  builder  is  the  re- 
sult of  a  threefold  illusion.  He  was  the  most 
brilliant  personality  of  the  apostoHc  circle;  and 
the  work  which  he  shared  with  others  has  there- 
fore been  credited  to  him  alone.  His  writings 
have  been  preserved  to  us  and  are  our  only  first- 
hand records  of  the  life  of  the  primitive  church; 
thus  we  infer  that  it  had  no  other  teacher.  Lastly, 
the  period  which  lies  behind  him  is  one  of  ob- 
scurity. Since  we  cannot  discover  how  much 
was  given  to  him,  we  are  willing  to  believe  that 
he  borrowed  nothing  and  simply  originated  what- 
ever he  taught.  Before  we  can  rightly  under- 
stand Paul,  or  the  great  movement  in  which  he 
played  the  chief  part,  we  require  to  free  our  minds 
of  these  illusions  and  to  allow  room  beside  him 
for  his  fellow  labourers. 

The  dependence  of  Paul  on  the  primitive  church 
is  coming  at  last  to  be  recognised;  but  criticism 
still  insists  on  a  dividing  line  between  the  prim- 
itive church  and  Jesus.  It  is  assumed  that  after 
our  Lord's  death  the  import  of  his  message  be- 
came half  obliterated.  Another  interest  began 
to  occupy  the  minds  of  his  followers,  and  from 
this,  much  more  than  from  his  own  teaching, 
the  new  movement  took  its  departure.  Now  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  this  hypothesis  contains  a 


4  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

measure  of  truth.  There  were  meanings  in  the 
thought  of  Jesus  which  his  disciples  were  unable 
to  fathom,  and  his  gospel,  as  they  proclaimed  it, 
could  not  but  suffer  an  impoverishment.  It  was 
inevitable,  too,  that  the  events  in  which  his  life 
had  culminated  should  partly  overshadow  his 
previous  ministry  and  transform  men's  attitude 
toward  him.  But  when  all  this  is  granted,  we 
have  still  to  remember  that  the  disciples  had 
learned  the  message  of  Jesus,  and  cannot  have 
entirely  missed  its  meaning.  It  is  incredible 
that  after  his  death  they  should  have  wrested  his 
cause  from  its  true  purpose  and  changed  it  into 
something  different.  That  they  continued  to 
cherish  the  message  as  they  had  received  it  from 
Jesus  is  no  mere  matter  of  conjecture.  If  direct 
evidence  were  needed,  we  have  it  in  the  existence 
of  our  Synoptic  Gospels,  which,  on  any  theory  of 
their  origin,  are  based  on  the  reminiscences  of 
the  primitive  church.  The  community  that  has 
bequeathed  to  us  these  Gospels  must  have  trea- 
sured the  teachings  of  Jesus  with  a  remarkable 
fidelity.  Even  the  discrepancies  in  the  threefold 
record  are  highly  significant,  proving  as  they  do 
that  the  tradition  was  not  a  formal  and  mechan- 
ical one.  The  message  of  Jesus  had  worked  it- 
self into  the  life  of  the  church  and  so  passed  down 
to  the  next  generation  as  its  most  precious  her- 
itage. 

We  cannot  be  wrong,  therefore,  in  believing 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  5 

that,  despite  all  apparent  differences,  there  is  an 
inner  connection  between  the  various  phases  of 
New  Testament  history.  It  has  been  too  much 
the  custom  of  criticism  to  insist  on  the  differences. 
We  are  asked  to  suppose  that  Christianity  ad- 
vanced, not  by  an  orderly  process  but  by  a 
series  of  sharp  transitions — from  Jesus  to  the 
primitive  church,  from  the  primitive  church  to 
Paul.  At  each  of  these  stages  there  was  a  break 
with  the  past  and  a  fresh  beginning.  But  if  the 
principle  of  development  means  anything,  we 
cannot  be  content  with  this  account  of  the  early 
history.  The  differences  are  real  enough,  and 
it  was  necessary  for  a  time  to  emphasise  them; 
but  the  task  that  now  devolves  on  criticism  is  to 
discover  the  hidden  links  of  continuity.  It  is 
proposed  in  these  lectures  to  investigate  that 
primitive  period  which  lies  between  Jesus  and 
Paul,  in  order,  if  possible,  to  determine  the  nature 
of  its  thought  and  beliefs.  According  as  we 
understand  that  critical  period  of  transition,  we 
shall  be  able  to  trace  the  development  of  the 
world-wide  church  from  the  immediate  work  of 
Jesus. 

At  the  outset  we  have  to  reckon  with  a  dif- 
ficulty which  might  seem  to  preclude  all  investi- 
gation. Since  the  earliest  period  is  one  of  dark- 
ness, have  we  the  necessary  data  for  any  judgment 
concerning  its  beliefs?     The   Epistles  of  James 


6  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

and  Peter  can  no  longer  be  accepted  as  first-hand 
documents;  the  Johannine  literature,  whatever 
be  its  authorship,  is  certainly  the  product  of  a 
later  time;  and  apart  from  these  writings  we 
have  nothing  that  even  pretends  to  represent 
the  mind  of  the  first  Apostles.  But  our  sources, 
though  meagre,  are  not  wholly  insufficient.  In 
the  first  place,  we  have  the  introductory  section 
of  the  book  of  Acts  (chaps.  1-12),  in  which  the 
author  professes  to  set  down  the  earliest  events 
in  something  like  historical  order.  These  chap- 
ters of  Acts  are  no  doubt  composed,  in  great 
part,  of  legend;  but  the  primitive  mark  upon 
them  is  unmistakable.  We  are  conscious  that 
behind  the  idealised  pictures  there  are  authentic 
memories  of  conditions  that  belonged  to  the  past. 
This  impression,  which  forces  itself  on  every  un- 
biassed reader,  has  now  been  largely  justified  by 
the  detailed  examination  to  which  the  chapters 
have  been  subjected  in  recent  years.  Literary 
analysis  is  at  best  uncertain;  and  the  critics  of 
this  section  of  Acts  have  by  no  means  reached  a 
complete  agreement.  Yet  they  may  be  held  to 
have  proved  that  in  his  second  work  as  in  his 
first  Luke  employed  a  method  of  compilation,  and 
that  he  incorporated  in  his  narrative  documents 
of  high  antiquity  and  value.  Some  of  these  doc- 
uments can  still  be  detached,  and  can  be  assigned 
to  a  date  when  the  memory  of  the  events  must 
have  been  fresh  and  vivid.     Even  those  portions 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  7 

of  the  record  which  bear  the  clearest  traces  of 
later  manipulation  cannot  wholly  be  set  aside. 
The  author  is  working  on  material  given  to  him, 
and  preserves  enough  of  it  to  indicate  at  least 
something  of  its  original  character.  Again,  the 
Epistles  of  Paul  supply  evidence  of  first-rate  value 
not  only  for  the  contemporary  life  of  the  church 
but  for  earlier  conditions.  In  several  passages 
Paul  refers  explicitly  to  what  he  had  received 
from  the  Apostles  before  him.  Attentive  study 
of  his  writings  can  discover  many  other  passages 
in  which  the  reference  is  impHed  although  not 
directly  expressed.  Indeed,  it  may  be  aflSrmed 
that  the  teaching  of  the  primitive  church  forms 
a  constant  background  to  the  Apostle's  thought. 
Even  in  his  statement  of  doctrines  which  are 
characteristically  his  own  we  can  make  out  a 
penumbra — a  suggestion  of  older  and  simpler 
ideas  which  he  was  seeking  to  interpret.  Our 
third  source  is  the  Synoptic  Gospels.  Their  very 
existence,  as  has  been  said  already,  is  a  fact  of 
the  highest  importance  for  the  understanding  of 
the  apostolic  age.  We  are  reminded  that  the 
teaching  of  Jesus  was  a  living  power  in  the  church 
and  that  all  its  beliefs  and  activities  were  in- 
fluenced directly  by  that  teaching.  But  in  a 
more  definite  manner  the  Gospels  throw  a  light 
on  the  beginnings  of  Christian  history.  Into  its 
recollections  of  the  Hfe  of  Jesus  the  church  uncon- 
sciously transfused  some  portion  of  its  own  life. 


8  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Incidents  were  described  from  the  point  of  view 
of  actual  conditions;  sayings  were  adapted  so 
as  to  bear  more  immediately  on  present  difficul- 
ties and  needs;  later  reflection  on  the  Gospel  story 
was  thrown  back  on  the  historical  picture.  There 
can  be  little  doubt  that  the  narrative  as  we  now 
have  it  contains  a  large  deposit  from  the  early 
history  of  the  church;  but  the  task  of  sifting  out 
the  accretions  from  the  original  substance  is  one 
of  extreme  delicacy.  It  has  certainly  been  car- 
ried out  too  rashly,  and  in  too  hard  and  pedantic 
a  fashion,  by  many  recent  critics.  They  have  set 
to  work  with  a  preconceived  idea  of  what  Jesus 
must  have  said  and  what  the  church  must  have 
added,  and  have  failed  to  reckon  with  the  pos- 
sibility that  he  and  the  church  may  have  partly 
shared  the  same  outlook.  But,  although  the  task 
is  difficult,  we  are  assisted,  in  some  measure,  by 
the  comparison  of  the  three  Gospels.  In  not  a 
few  cases  their  differences  afford  us  a  clew  that 
would  otherwise  be  wanting,  and  enable  us  to 
separate  the  thought  of  Jesus  from  the  elements 
that  filtered  in  at  a  later  time. 

These,  then,  are  the  chief  sources  of  our  knowl- 
edge. They  are,  indeed,  scanty  and  their  data 
have  often  to  be  pieced  together  by  conjecture; 
but  when  we  consider  the  obscurity  which  over- 
hung the  earliest  Christian  history  it  is  surprising 
that  so  many  glimpses  are  afforded  us.  Our  con- 
cern is  with  the  primitive  beliefs  as  we  can  ascer- 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  9 

tain  them  with  the  help  of  these  sources.  But  it 
is  necessary,  in  the  first  place,  to  direct  our  atten- 
tion to  the  historical  circumstances  in  which  the 
church  arose. 

On  the  night  when  Jesus  was  arrested  in  Jeru- 
salem, during  the  Passover  week,  the  disciples, 
smitten  with  panic,  had  deserted  him.  What  was 
the  nature  of  this  desertion?  The  Gospel  narra- 
tives, in  their  present  form,  leave  us  with  the 
impression  that  although  the  disciples  fled  they 
still  remained  in  the  city  and  there  received  the 
evidence  that  the  Lord  had  arisen.  But  the 
evangelists  wrote  under  various  influences,  which 
may  easily  have  led  them,  at  this  point,  to  dis- 
guise or  modify  the  facts.  They  may  well  have 
desired  to  mitigate  the  apparent  weakness  of  the 
disciples — to  assign  to  Jerusalem,  from  the  very 
outset,  a  place  of  unique  importance — to  com- 
bine the  story  of  the  empty  grave  with  that  of 
the  appearances.  It  is  certainly  natural  to  sup- 
pose that  in  the  panic  which  overtook  them  the 
disciples  made  their  escape  altogether  from  the 
zone  of  danger  and  hastened  back  to  their  homes 
in  Galilee.  When  we  examine  the  New  Testa- 
ment evidence  more  closely  we  find  a  number  of 
evidences  which  have  survived  the  later  editing, 
and  which  point  to  Galilee  rather  than  Jerusalem 
as  the  scene  of  those  experiences  which  convinced 
the  disciples  that  the  Lord  had  risen.     (1)  Mark 


10  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

preserves  the  significant  prediction:  '^  After  that 
I  am  risen  I  will  go  before  you  into  Galilee  *' 
(Mark  14  :  28).  Signs  are  not  wanting  (cf.  Mark 
16  :  7)  that  this  reunion  in  Galilee  formed  the 
subject  of  the  lost  ending  of  Mark's  Gospel.  (2) 
In  the  twenty-first  chapter  of  John,  the  so-called 
*' appendix,"  which  is  synoptic  rather  than  Johan- 
nine  in  its  character,  we  meet  with  the  tradition 
of  an  interval  during  which  the  disciples  resumed 
their  old  life  in  GaUlee  and  there  saw  the  Lord. 
(3)  The  same  tradition  has  left  its  marks  on  the 
closing  chapter  of  Matthew  (28  :  10,  16  /.), 
although  the  original  outlines  of  the  story  have 
now  become  much  faded.  (4)  Paul,  whose  brief 
account  of  the  resurrection  is  the  earliest  and 
most  important  of  all,  says  nothing  as  to  the 
locality  of  the  visions,  but  his  references  would 
suit  Galilee  better  than  Jerusalem.  He  speaks, 
for  instance,  of  an  appearance  to  James,  and  there 
is  no  evidence  that  James  had  accompanied  Jesus 
to  the  capital.  Moreover,  the  "five  hundred 
brethren  at  once"  could  hardly  have  been  gath- 
ered elsewhere  than  in  Galilee,  where  the  ma- 
jority of  Jesus'  adherents  still  remained. 

What,  then,  was  the  effect  of  those  appear- 
ances which  in  all  probability  took  place  in 
Galilee?  It  is  commonly  assumed  that  the  faith 
of  the  disciples  had  been  shattered  by  the  appar- 
ent ruin  which  had  befallen  Jesus  and  his  cause. 
They  had  accepted  him  as  the  promised  Messiah; 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  11 

but  in  view  of  his  ignominious  death  their  belief 
in  him  could  only  be  restored  by  a  stupendous 
miracle.  The  desertion  at  Gethsemane,  followed 
by  the  denial  of  Peter,  is  brought  forward  as 
evidence  of  this  collapse  of  faith.  But  we  can- 
not fairly  draw  a  large  inference  of  this  kind  from 
the  desertion.  It  was  nothing  but  the  result  of 
a  sudden  panic  such  as  might  easily  overtake  a 
band  of  peasants  confronted  for  the  first  time 
and  in  a  strange  city  with  the  terrors  of  legal  pro- 
cedure. As  the  later  events  abundantly  proved, 
it  argued  no  radical  lack  of  courage — much  less 
a  shattering  of  faith.  If  we  can  attach  any  value 
to  the  solemnly  repeated  statements  of  the  Gos- 
pels, the  disciples  were  already  prepared  for  the 
closing  events  at  Jerusalem.  Jesus  had  fore- 
warned them  of  a  coming  catastrophe  and  taught 
them  that  through  suffering  and  death  he  would 
fulfil  his  Messianic  work.  It  can  hardly  be 
doubted  that  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  in  the  latter 
days  of  his  ministry,  turned  largely  upon  this 
thought;  and  any  failure  of  faith  on  the  part  of 
his  disciples  could  be  only  for  a  moment.  Their 
mood,  when  once  the  crisis  was  over,  would  be 
one  not  of  disillusionment  and  despair  but  of 
intense  expectation.  All  had  happened  as  Jesus 
had  foretold.  Their  belief  in  him  would  be  even 
stronger  than  before  and  would  be  only  waiting 
to  break  out  into  victorious  certainty. 

The  narratives  of  the  resurrection  are  beset 


12  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

with  many  problems,  some  of  which  may  be 
partly  solved  by  critical  analysis  while  others  are 
involved  in  a  mystery  that  can  never  be  Hfted. 
For  our  immediate  purpose  it  is  not  necessary  to 
discuss  these  complex  problems.  One  fact  stands 
out  clearly  amidst  all  the  confusion  of  the  records 
and  IS  now  recognised  by  every  fair-minded 
scholar — that  the  disciples  underwent  some  ex- 
perience which  convinced  them  that  the  Lord  was 
risen.  According  to  Paul,  who  expressly  says  that 
his  testimony  was  that  of  all  the  Apostles,*  the 
fact  of  the  resurrection  was  estabhshed  by  a  series 
of  visions  of  which  the  first  was  seen  by  Peter. 
Of  the  empty  tomb  we  have  no  mention  by  Paul, 
although  some  have  discovered  a  hint  of  it  in 
his  emphatic  statement  that  '*  Christ  died  and  was 
buried."  Paul  speaks,  indeed,  as  if  all  the  ap- 
pearances were  of  the  same  order  as  that  which 
he  himself  had  witnessed  on  the  road  to  Damas- 
cus, when  Christ  was  manifested  not  in  the  body 
which  he  had  worn  on  earth  but  in  a  spiritual 
body  consisting  of  heavenly  light.  But  prob- 
ably it  was  not  till  a  later  time  that  the  church 
began  to  reflect  on  the  nature  of  the  resurrection 
and  arrived  at  the  theories  which  are  suggested 
by  the  conflicting  narratives  in  the  Gospels.  The 
original  witnesses  were  satisfied  with  the  fact. 
Christ  had  appeared  to  them  and  was  therefore 
risen. 

*  I  Cor.  15  :  11. 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  13 

From  the  time  of  Paul  onward  Christian 
thought  has  dwelt  on  the  resurrection  and  has 
sought  to  correlate  it  with  the  wider  problems 
of  faith  and  immortality.  These  later  specula- 
tions must  be  left  out  of  account  when  we  try  to 
estimate  its  significance  for  the  first  disciples. 
They  viewed  it,  so  far  as  we  can  gather,  under 
two  aspects.  On  the  one  hand,  it  inspired  them 
with  the  conviction  that  Jesus  was  still  living. 
Their  fellowship  with  him  had  only  been  inter- 
rupted for  a  brief  season  and  was  now  resumed, 
although  he  was  no  longer  an  outward  and  visible 
presence.  They  were  his  servants,  as  before,  and 
could  depend  upon  his  aid  and  direction.  In 
this  belief  that  they  were  co-operating  with  the 
living  Master  we  can  discern  the  ultimate  secret 
of  that  enthusiasm  which  carried  them  to  vic- 
tory. They  were  engaged  in  the  service  not  of 
a  rule  or  tradition,  however  sacred,  but  of  the 
living  Christ.  Here,  too,  we  may  discern  the 
secret  of  the  progressiveness  of  early  Christianity 
— of  its  power  of  adapting  itself  to  new  conditions 
and  welcoming  the  new  influences  that  might 
seem  to  be  working  for  its  destruction.  It  was 
not  bound  down  to  the  past,  for  Christ  was  still 
living  and  offering  a  new  revelation.  His  life  as 
it  had  been  was  remembered  and  treasured  be- 
cause it  served  to  illuminate  his  present  and  abid- 
ing life.  We  are  wont  to  think  of  the  mysticism 
which  has  entered  so  profoundly  into  Christian 


14  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

thought  as  a  later  development.  The  first  traces 
of  it  have  been  discovered  in  Paul,  and  are  set 
down  to  his  peculiar  temperament  and  experi- 
ence or  to  the  ideas  which  he  borrowed  half 
unconsciously  from  the  Oriental  cults.  But  the 
disciples  were  possessed  from  the  outset  with 
a  conviction  which  naturally  took  the  form  of 
a  mystical  sentiment.  Assured  that  Jesus  was 
still  living,  they  sought  to  continue  in  his  fellow- 
ship; and  the  outward  communion  was  replaced 
by  a  sense  of  his  inward  presence.  '^Wherever 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  my  name, 
there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them.'*  These  words, 
although  they  can  hardly  have  been  spoken  by 
Jesus  himself,  afford  us  a  vivid  glimpse  into  the 
minds  of  his  earliest  followers,  to  whom  he  was 
still  the  living  and  present  Lord. 

But  the  resurrection  had  another  and  more 
definite  significance.  It  served  to  convince  his 
disciples  not  only  that  Jesus  was  still  living  but 
that  he  had  now  entered  on  his  supreme  office  as 
the  Messiah.  During  the  whole  New  Testament 
period  this  is  the  grand  inference  which  is  drawn 
from  the  fact  of  the  resurrection.  It  is  the 
crowning  proof,  the  palpable  guarantee,  of  Jesus* 
Messiahship.  "If  Christ  is  not  risen,"  says  Paul, 
"your  faith  is  vain;  ye  are  yet  in  your  sins." 
His  meaning  is  that  the  very  basis  of  the  Chris- 
tian gospel  is  the  belief  that  Jesus  is  the  Mes- 
siah and  that  this  belief  is  attested  by  the  fact 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  15 

of  the  resurrection.  The  earliest  missionary 
preaching  seems  all  to  have  taken  this  as  its 
starting-point.  Jesus  was  proclaimed  as  Messiah 
on  the  ground  of  his  resurrection,  and  in  his 
Messiahship  the  whole  meaning  of  his  gospel  was 
made  to  centre.  A  question  here  arises  which  is 
of  crucial  importance  and  difficulty  and  which 
has  never  been  sufficiently  answered  by  New 
Testament  scholars.  Why  was  the  resurrection 
accepted  as  the  convincing  proof  of  the  Mes- 
siahship? According  to  one  view,  Jesus  was 
marked  out  by  this  great  miracle  as  a  super- 
natural person,  who  could  be  no  other  than  the 
Messiah.  But  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  miracle 
in  itself  would  have  compelled  this  inference. 
We  have  evidence  that  the  Jewish  mind  of  the 
time  fully  entertained  the  possibility  of  a  resur- 
rection in  the  case  of  men  specially  favoured  by 
God.  Popular  legend  told  of  ''women  who  re- 
ceived their  dead  raised  to  Hfe  again"  (Heb. 
11  :  35).  When  Jesus  first  appeared,  as  w^e  know 
from  the  Gospel  narrative,  Herod  surmised  that 
this  must  be  John  the  Baptist  risen  from  the 
dead.  The  idea  of  resurrection  was  by  no  means 
so  strange  to  Jesus'  contemporaries  that  his  ap- 
pearance after  death  would  leave  them  no  choice 
but  to  acknowledge  him  as  the  Messiah.  Again, 
it  has  been  held  that  the  resurrection  proved  the 
claim  of  Jesus  because  it  cancelled  the  reproach 
of  his  cross.    He  had  suffered  as  a  false  Messiah, 


16  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

but  God  had  vindicated  him — had  declared  that 
his  witness  was  true.  The  disciples  may,  indeed, 
have  used  this  argument  in  defending  the  Mes- 
sianic claim  of  Jesus  against  Jewish  unbelief.  It 
enabled  them  to  show  that  the  stumbling-block 
of  the  cross  had  been  gloriously  removed  and 
that  God  himself  had  given  his  answer  to  the 
blind  judgment  of  men.  But  to  themselves,  as 
we  have  seen,  the  cross  was  no  stumbling-block. 
Jesus  had  taught  them  to  regard  his  death  not 
as  a  catastrophe  which  needed  to  be  justified  but 
as  the  necessary  fulfilment  of  the  divine  plan. 
Once  more  it  has  been  suggested  that  the  proof 
from  the  resurrection  owed  its  strength  to  proph- 
ecy. In  Peter's  speech  at  Pentecost  certain 
passages  from  the  Psalms  are  quoted  at  length 
and  applied  to  the  resurrection;  and  in  the  early 
preaching  generally  this  line  of  argument  seems 
to  have  been  enforced.  "Christ  rose  from  the 
dead,''  says  Paul,  "according  to  the  scriptures." 
But  it  cannot  have  been  on  the  ground  of  proph- 
ecy that  the  resurrection  was  held  to  be  the  de- 
cisive proof  of  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus.  The 
Old  Testament  passages  in  question  have  no  ob- 
vious bearing  on  the  event.  They  cannot  have 
constituted  the  proof,  but  were  evidently  sought 
out  to  support  it  by  the  ultimate  authority  of 
scripture. 

Why  was  it,  then,  that  the  resurrection  was  ac- 
cepted by  the  disciples  as  absolute  testimony  that 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  17 

Jesus  was  no  other  than  the  Messiah?  It  is 
difficult  to  avoid  the  conclusion  that  they  were 
influenced  in  the  last  resort  by  some  declaration 
of  Jesus  himself.  They  were  aware  that  he  had 
foretold  his  rising  from  the  dead  and  had  connected 
it  with  his  elevation  to  the  Messianic  office.  In 
his  later  teaching,  as  recorded  in  the  Gospels,  he 
dwells  on  the  thought  that  his  approaching  death 
will  be  followed  by  an  exaltation.  The  Son  of 
Man  will  suffer  n\any  things  and  be  put  to  death, 
but  will  rise  again  and  manifest  himself  in  glory. 
The  authenticity  of  these  predictions  has  often 
been  called  in  question;  and  it  may  be  admitted 
that  they  have  not  been  reported  literally.  They 
follow  one  another  according  to  an  artificial 
scheme  and  bear  evident  traces  of  later  theo- 
logical reflection.  But  there  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  that  they  preserve  at  least  the  substance 
of  actual  sayings  of  Jesus;  and  they  help  to  ex- 
plain his  attitude  in  the  closing  days,  when  he 
held  unwaveringly  to  his  Messianic  claim  in  the 
face  of  impending  death.  The  disciples,  we  may 
believe,  understood  the  resurrection  in  the  light 
of  these  anticipations  of  Jesus.  He  had  declared 
that  although  he  must  die  he  would  rise  from 
death  as  the  exalted  Messiah,  and  now  "he  had 
risen,  as  he  said." 

The  resurrection,  therefore,  was  the  triumphant 
proof  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah;  but  its  sig- 
nificance in  this  respect  needs  to  be  defined  more 


18  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

closely.  By  his  rising  from  the  dead  it  was  proved 
that  he  had  now  attained  to  his  Messiahship — 
that  the  dignity  which  had  hitherto  been  latent 
had  become  actual.  The  Messiah,  according  to 
Jewish  expectations,  was  to  reveal  himself  at  the 
beginning  of  the  new  age,  over  which  he  would 
preside  as  the  representative  of  God;  and  it  was 
only  in  a  future  and  potential  sense  that  Jesus 
could  claim  in  his  lifetime  to  be  the  Messiah.  He 
believed,  if  we  rightly  understand  the  obscure 
hints  in  the  Gospels,  that  by  death  he  was  to  win 
for  himself  the  Messianic  office,  invested  with 
which  he  would  return  to  bring  in  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Thus  the  resurrection  was  a  necessary  mo- 
ment in  the  destiny  which  he  contemplated,  and 
his  prediction  of  it  affords  no  real  difficulty.  Con- 
vinced, as  he  was,  that  through  death  he  would 
obtain  Messiahship,  he  declared  that  he  would 
rise  from  death  into  a  new  and  higher  state  of 
being.  These  hopes  of  Jesus  were  familiar  to  his 
disciples;  and  by  their  visions  of  the  risen  Master 
they  were  assured  that  the  exaltation  had  now 
been  accomplished.  The  resurrection  was  proof 
not  of  something  that  Jesus  had  been  in  his 
earthly  life  but  of  the  sovereign  place  to  which 
he  had  since  attained.  For  the  first  time  they 
now  beheld  him  in  his  true  character  as  the  Mes- 
siah. More  than  once  in  the  New  Testament  we 
meet  with  an  explicit  statement  of  this  concep- 
tion, which  seems  to  have  been  taken  for  granted 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  19 

in  the  earliest  theology  of  the  church.  ''Let  all 
the  house  of  Israel/'  says  Peter  at  Pentecost, 
"know  assuredly  that  God  hath  made  this  Jesus 
whom  ye  crucified  both  Lord  and  Christ"  (Acts 
2  :  36).  Hitherto  he  had  been  "Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth, a  man  approved  of  God  among  you  by 
miracles  and  wonders  and  signs";  now  God  had 
appointed  him  Lord  and  Christ.  So  Paul,  in 
the  opening  verses  of  Romans,  speaks  of  Jesus  as 
"born  of  the  seed  of  David  after  the  flesh,  but 
now  declared  Son  of  God  with  power  by  the  resur- 
rection from  the  dead."  *  To  the  disciples  this 
was  the  central  significance  of  those  visions  which 
they  had  witnessed.  They  were  satisfied  that  the 
potential  dignity  had  now  become  actual.  Jesus 
had  risen  out  of  the  limitations  of  his  earthly 
life  into  the  position  of  lordship  and  power  to 
which  he  had  been  destined.  His  rising  again  had 
been  at  the  same  time  his  entrance  on  the  Mes- 
siahship. 

The  appearances,  then,  seem  to  have  taken 
place  in  Galilee;  and  in  any  case  the  disciples  had 
returned  there  for  a  short  interval  after  the  Lord's 
death.  Immediately  afterward,  however,  we  find 
them  in  Jerusalem,  along  with  a  considerable 
number  of  other  adherents  of  Jesus  who  had  not 
belonged  to  the  inner  circle.  Nothing  is  told  us 
of  the  reasons  for  this  migration,  which  was 
*  Romans  1  :  3,  4. 


20  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

fraught  with  such  momentous  consequences. 
Luke,  indeed,  who  would  naturally  have  been  our 
informant,  is  anxious  above  all  the  others  to  dis- 
guise the  fact  that  the  disciples  ever  left  Jeru- 
salem. 

How  is  the  migration  to  be  explained?  Ac- 
cording to  one  view  the  followers  of  Jesus  were 
attracted  by  a  natural  sentiment  to  the  city 
which  had  been  consecrated  for  them  by  his 
passion.  But  their  memories  of  Jesus  were  far 
more  entwined  with  GaHlee  than  with  Jerusalem. 
By  abandoning  their  native  province  they  cut 
themselves  off  from  the  sacred  associations  of 
the  past  years.  It  has  been  more  plausibly  con- 
jectured that  they  felt  the  need  of  a  wider  field 
of  propaganda  than  Galilee  could  afford  them. 
From  Jerusalem  as  a  centre  they  would  be  able 
to  proclaim  their  message  to  the  Jewish  nation 
and  to  the  world  at  large.  But  it  is  hardly  con- 
ceivable that  at  the  very  beginning,  when  they 
were  still  overwhelmed  with  their  wonderful  ex- 
periences, they  drew  up  a  deliberate  plan  of 
action  and  chose  out  a  centre  for  missionary 
work.  Their  choice,  in  any  case,  would  not 
readily  have  fallen  on  Jerusalem — the  stronghold 
of  the  opposition  which  had  brought  about  the 
Lord's  death.  Another  theory  has  been  put  for- 
ward in  recent  years,*  to  the  effect  that  the  settle- 

*  Cf.  Spitta.,  "Zur  Geschich.  undLitt.  des  Urchristentums," 
I.  290. 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  21 

ment  at  Jerusalem  was  more  or  less  accidental. 
The  disciples  had  been  interrupted  in  their  ob- 
servance of  the  Passover,  and  availed  themselves 
of  a  provision  in  the  Law  which  allowed  of  a 
second  observance  at  Pentecost.  But  in  the  time 
of  Jesus  the  Passover  pilgrimage  was  no  longer 
insisted  on,  and  the  disciples  would  feel  no  ob- 
ligation to  keep  the  feast  over  again.  Moreover, 
it  cannot  be  imagined  for  a  moment  that  in  the 
first  glow  of  their  faith  in  the  resurrection  they 
were  troubled  by  meticulous  scruples  about  the 
omission  of  a  legal  duty.  The  true  explanation 
of  the  removal  to  Jerusalem  is  almost  certainly 
to  be  sought  in  the  enthusiastic  hopes  which  had 
now  taken  full  possession  of  the  disciples.  As- 
sured that  the  Lord  was  risen,  they  were  looking 
for  his  immediate  return  in  power  to  establish 
the  kingdom  of  God.  Where  ought  they  to  be 
in  order  that  they  might  not  miss  him  at  his 
coming?  According  to  a  well-known  prophecy, 
he  would  manifest  himself  in  the  holy  city.  "  The 
Lord  whom  ye  seek  shall  suddenly  come  to  his 
temple,  even  the  messenger  of  the  covenant  whom 
ye  delight  in"  (Mai.  3  :  1).  It  is  told  us  in  the 
early  chapters  of  Acts  that  the  disciples  were 
continually  in  the  temple,  and  this  is  usually 
adduced  as  evidence  that  they  adhered  strictly 
to  Jewish  forms  of  piety  notwithstanding  their 
new-born  faith.  But  may  we  not  here  discern  a 
reminiscence   which   had   come   down   from   the 


22  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

earliest  days,  although  its  true  import  had  possibly 
been  forgotten  when  Luke  recorded  it?  The  dis- 
ciples had  hastened  to  Jerusalem,  impelled  by  a 
sublime  hope  of  sharing  in  their  Master's  triumph. 
Like  Simeon  in  the  Gospel  story,  they  resorted 
every  day  to  the  temple,  believing,  like  him,  that 
they  would  there  witness  the  coming  of  the 
Lord's  Christ.  \     y 

Another  significant  detail  is  preserved  for  us 
in  those  opening  chapters  of  Acts.  We  are  told 
that  the  community,  numbering  about  a  hundred 
and  twenty  in  all,  held  a  solemn  meeting  and, 
on  Peter's  suggestion,  cast  lots  for  one  who  should 
take  the  place  of  Judas  in  the  inner  group  of  the 
twelve.  The  account  is  evidently  based  on  some 
primitive  and  trustworthy  source,  otherwise  the 
obscure  Matthias,  who  is  never  heard  of  again, 
would  not  have  been  lifted  into  such  prominence. 
It  may  be  doubted,  however,  whether  Luke  has 
rightly  appreciated  the  motive  of  this  election. 
Its  purpose,  according  to  the  speech  attributed 
to  Peter,  was  to  provide  another  official  mission- 
ary who  could  bear  witness  to  the  work  and 
resurrection  of  Jesus  on  the  strength  of  personal 
knowledge.  But  if  this  alone  was  to  be  his  voca- 
tion, there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  have 
been  adopted  into  the  family  of  the  twelve. 
Outside  of  this  original  band,  there  were  not  a 
few  who  were  fully  commissioned  as  apostles 
and  who  were  far  more  active  and  successful  in 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  23 

apostolic  work  than  Thomas  or  Andrew  or  Bar- 
tholomew. For  the  appointment  of  Matthias 
there  can  only  have  been  one  motive — to  make 
up  the  symbolic  number  of  twelve,  which  had 
been  fixed  by  Jesus  himself  in  order  to  signaHse 
the  nature  of  his  community.  We  shall  return  to 
this  point  later,  but  meanwhile  it  is  important  to 
note  that  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the  church  w^as 
to  restore  the  symbolic  number.  It  was  deemed 
essential,  if  the  community  was  to  answer  its 
true  character,  that  it  should  have  a  nucleus  of 
twelve. 

In  his  account  of  this  incident,  and  through- 
out the  earlier  chapters  of  his  book,  Luke  has 
construed  the  facts  according  to  a  given  theory, 
and  by  so  doing  has  altered  the  historical  per- 
spective in  such  a  manner  as  to  mislead  all  sub- 
sequent investigation.  The  plan  of  his  double 
work — for  the  Gospel  and  the  Acts  must  be 
taken  together — is  a  truly  magnificent  one.  He 
sets  himself  to  show  how  the  message  destined 
for  all  mankind  found  its  way  to  all,  diffusing  it- 
self in  ever-widening  circles  over  the  whole  world. 
The  movement  which  had  originated  in  a  remote 
province  was  centred  at  last  in  Jerusalem,  and 
from  there  extended  to  the  cities  of  Israel,  to 
Syria,  to  the  more  distant  gentile  lands,  until 
it  became  a  power  in  Rome  itself.  It  was,  indeed, 
in  this  manner  that  the  gospel  spread,  but  Luke 
has  exhibited  the  progress  from  the  point  of  view 


24  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

of  conscious  design.  He  regards  Christianity  as 
from  the  first  a  missionary  religion.  Jesus  chose 
the  twelve  to  be  his  Apostles,  and  immediately 
after  his  departure  they  arranged  to  carry  out 
the  great  propaganda.  Already  in  the  initial  days 
at  Jerusalem  they  were  looking  to  the  future  and 
laying  their  plans  in  view  of  it.  Luke  fails,  there- 
fore, to  allow  for  the  spontaneity  with  which  the 
mission  developed  itself,  and  which  is  apparent 
when  we  read  between  the  lines  of  his  own  story. 
The  advance  was  not  the  result  of  design,  but 
of  the  inherent  universality  of  the  new  religion. 
It  passed  on  from  race  to  race  by  channels  of 
its  own  making,  and  broke,  with  a  living  power, 
through  every  restriction  which  men  had  placed 
upon  it.  To  understand  the  primitive  church  in 
its  true  character,  we  must  divest  our  minds  of 
Luke's  theory.  There  came  a  time,  no  doubt, 
when  the  mission  was  consciously  undertaken  and 
absorbed  the  whole  energy  of  the  church,  but  at 
the  beginning,  as  we  shall  find  reason  to  believe, 
the  missionary  motive  was  entirely  absent.  The 
disciples  did  not  feel  summoned  to  carry  the 
gospel  to  the  world,  or  even  to  the  masses  of  their 
own  countrymen.  They  expected  that  in  a  few 
days  or  weeks  the  Lord  would  himself  return  to 
fulfil  his  kingdom  according  to  his  own  plan, 
and  their  part  was  simply  that  of  waiting  for 
him.  If  new  adherents  were  added  to  the  church 
even  in  those  first  days  it  was  not  because  of  any 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  25 

deliberate  propaganda.  The  plan  of  a  mission 
dawned  on  the  disciples  slowly  and  gradually, 
and  in  some  measure  through  the  failure  of  their 
earlier  hopes. 

This  initial  phase  of  the  life  of  the  church  can 
still  be  distinguished  in  the  book  of  Acts  in  spite 
of  the  meagreness  and  confusion  of  the  narrative. 
The   believers   are   a   small   company,    gathered 
around  their  leaders,  the  twelve  disciples.  ^  They 
are  constantly  together  and  pass  their  time  in 
prayer— directed,  we  cannot  doubt,  to  the  speedy 
return  of  Christ.     They  throw  their  few  posses- 
sions into  a  common  stock,  for  the  end  is  now  at 
hand,    and   for   the   short   remaining   time   it  is 
needless  to  entangle  themselves  with  the  affairs 
of  this  world.     Daily  they  frequent  the  temple, 
in  the  hope  that  perhaps  this  day  the  Lord  will 
appear.     This   is   the   picture   given   us   of   the 
earliest  period,  and  we  can  detect  no  trace  in  it 
of  the  sense  of  responsibiUty  for  a  mighty  mission. 
We  have  to  do,  rather,  with  a  company  of  vision- 
aries, full  of  an  intense  inward  life  but  purposely 
avoiding  all  interests  outside  of  their  own  im- 
mediate circle.     The  conditions  are  changed  in- 
deed when  a  few  years  have  passed  and  we  find 
ourselves  confronted  with  the  expanding  mission- 
ary church  which  has  taken  the  whole  world  for 
its  province.     Yet  the  later  church  grew  out  of 
that  earUer  one,  and  when  we  look  beneath  the 
surface  we  can  see  that  the  primitive  ideals  were 


26  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

never  wholly  abandoned.  The  Christian  church 
as  it  exists  to-day  bears  the  impress  that  was 
stamped  upon  it  in  that  far-off  time  of  its 
origin. 

The  conclusions  we  have  thus  far  been  led  to 
may  be  briefly  summarised.  After  the  arrest  of 
Jesus  the  disciples  had  fled  to  Galilee,  panic- 
stricken  by  the  disaster  but  with  their  faith  un- 
shaken. Jesus  had  taught  them  that  he  was  the 
destined  Messiah — that  he  would  rise  again,  in- 
vested with  higher  attributes,  and  return  in 
power.  In  Galilee  one  and  another  of  the  dis- 
ciples were  visited  with  experiences  which  con- 
vinced them  that  he  had  indeed  risen;  and  the 
twelve,  accompanied  with  some  hundred  en- 
thusiasts, came  back  to  Jerusalem  in  the  expec- 
tation of  meeting  him.  At  first  the  little  com- 
munity was  quite  without  plans  for  the  future, 
and  its  whole  thought  was  directed  to  the  great 
crisis  that  seemed  just  imminent.  None  the  less, 
the  believers  were  unable  to  conceal  the  hopes 
that  possessed  them,  and  others  were  infected 
with  their  confidence.  New  adherents  began  to 
offer  themselves  unsought,  and  as  these  grew  in 
number,  and  the  Lord's  coming  was  delayed,  the 
mission  assumed  a  deliberate  character.  A  rude 
organisation,  too,  became  necessary,  all  the  more 
so  as  practical  diflSculties  arose  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  common  goods.  Thus,  step  by  step, 
the  church  took  on  itself  the  form  of  an  institu- 


THE  FIRST  DAYS  27 

tion,  with  its  own  peculiar  traditions  and  its  own 
practices  and  beliefs. 

Our  inquiry  is  concerned  with  that  earliest 
period  when  the  community  was  still  in  the  proc- 
ess of  moulding,  under  the  influence  of  the 
primitive  ideas.  The  period  is  a  clearly  marked 
one,  ending  with  the  death  of  Stephen;  but  how 
long  it  extended  is  a  matter  of  dispute,  which 
will  never,  perhaps,  be  finally  settled.  Our  nat- 
ural impression,  as  we  read  the  book  of  Acts, 
is  that  of  a  considerable  interval  dividing  the 
career  of  Paul  from  the  first  settlement  in  Jeru- 
salem. But  the  result  of  more  recent  chrono- 
logical study  has  been  to  throw  back  the  conver- 
sion of  Paul  to  an  ever  earlier  date.  At  the 
latest,  it  cannot  have  been  subsequent  to  the 
year  35 — five  years  after  the  crucifixion.  More 
probably  we  must  assign  it  to  the  year  33  or  32. 
It  is  difficult  to  realise  that  the  momentous 
initial  period  occupied  only  the  short  space  of 
two  or  three  years,  but  we  must  remember  that 
in  great  epochs  the  changes  that  would  normally 
require  a  generation  may  be  crowded  into  months. 
In  view,  too,  of  the  shortness  of  the  period,  we 
are  compelled  once  more  to  ask  ourselves  the 
fundamental  question  whether  the  changes  were 
so  radical  as  has  commonly  been  supposed.  In 
point  of  time,  Paul  was  separated  by  only  a  brief 
interval  from  Jesus;  may  he  not  have  approached 
him,  more  closely  than  might  appear  at  first  sight, 


28  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

in  the  broad  outlines  of  his  teaching?  The  answer 
to  this  question  is  to  be  sought,  at  least  in  part, 
in  the  study  of  that  primitive  community  which 
forms  the  bridge  between  Jesus  and  Paul. 


LECTURE  II 

THE   ECCLESIA 

The  followers  of  Jesus  called  themselves  by 
two  names,  given  them,  apparently,  by  Jesus 
himself.  In  their  relation  to  him  they  were  the 
fjaOrjTai — the  *' learners"  or  ''disciples."  This 
was  the  ordinary  name  applied  to  the  adherents 
of  a  religious  teacher,  and  we  read  in  the  Gospels 
of  "disciples"  of  John  the  Baptist  and  of  the 
Pharisaic  rabbis.  But  in  the  case  of  Jesus'  dis- 
ciples it  seems  to  have  borne  a  reference  to  the 
subject  of  instruction  as  well  as  to  the  teacher. 
The  hope  that  attracted  men  to  Jesus  was  that 
of  learning  the  true  nature  of  the  kingdom  and 
the  conditions  of  entering  it.  In  their  relation  to 
one  another  the  disciples  were  the  aBeXipoi,  or 
"brethren,"  and  this  name  likewise  derived  a 
special  meaning  from  the  subject  of  Jesus*  mes- 
sage. The  kingdom  which  he  proclaimed  was  to 
recognise  no  distinctions  of  rank  or  class — no 
other  bond  than  that  of  love  and  mutual  service. 
In  his  own  company  of  followers  Jesus  sought  to 
exemplify  this  new  order  which  was  soon  to  be 
universal.  "One  is  your  Master,  and  all  ye  are 
brethren."  * 

*  Matt.  23  :  8. 
29 


30  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

These  two  names  which  Jesus  had  given  were 
retained  after  his  death  and  were  in  general  use 
during  the  whole  of  the  first  century.  They  were 
at  last  displaced  by  the  name  "Christians/'  but 
this  was  imposed  from  without  and  was  adopted 
slowly  and  reluctantly.  If  not  bestowed  in  ridi- 
cule it  was  at  any  rate  a  sectarian  name,  marking 
the  belief  in  Christ  as  the  peculiar  tenet  of  a 
group  or  party,  and  we  can  understand  the  un- 
willingness of  the  Christians  to  accept  it.  They 
claimed  to  form  a  society  altogether  unique  in 
its  character,  and  by  this  name  they  found  them- 
selves classified  as  one  of  the  many  religious  or 
philosophical  sects  of  the  age.  At  the  same  time 
some  term  was  necessary  to  denote  the  broth- 
erhood, as  distinguished  from  the  individual 
*' brethren"  who  composed  it;  and  the  term 
adopted  was  "the  Ecclesia."  It  is  hardly  too 
much  to  say  that  in  this  name  we  have  the  key 
to  the  early  history  of  Christianity.  By  the  des- 
ignation which  it  chose  for  itself  the  community 
expressed  its  consciousness  of  what  it  was  and  of 
its  place  in  the  divine  order. 

At  what  time  the  name  "Ecclesia"  originated 
we  do  not  know,  but  it  must  have  been  employed 
almost  from  the  outset.  When  Paul  goes  back 
in  memory  to  his  earliest  Christian  days  he  uses 
the  term  "church"  or  "church  of  God"  as  a 
matter  of  course,*  and  we  may  infer  that  it  was 
*  Gal.  1  :  13,  22;  I  Cor.  15  :  9. 


THE  ECCLESIA  31 

already  established  before  the  date  of  his  eon- 
version.  He  clearly  implies,  by  all  his  references, 
that  it  was  the  recognised  name  of  the  Christian 
brotherhood  aUke  in  Palestine  and  in  the  various 
centres  of  the  gentile  mission.  In  two  passages 
of  Matthew's  Gospel*  Jesus  himself  alludes  to  the 
"church.''  We  shall  have  occasion  to  consider 
these  passages  later  and  to  question  their  au- 
thenticity— indeed,  it  is  highly  improbable  on 
every  ground  that  the  name  was  ever  used  by 
Jesus.  Nevertheless,  it  grew  out  of  ideas  which 
were  closely  related  to  his  work  and  message. 
The  nature  of  that  relation  will  become  apparent 
when  we  have  examined  the  origin  and  purport 
of  the  name. 

The  word  ''Ecclesia,"  as  it  occurs  in  ordinary 
Greek,  denotes  a  civic  meeting  or  assembly.  In 
classical  times  it  signified  the  governing  council 
of  free  citizens  in  a  city-state,  but  at  a  later  pe- 
riod it  assumed  a  more  general  meaning.  Thus 
within  the  New  Testament  itself  we  find  it  ap- 
plied to  the  riotous  gathering  which  assailed  Paul 
in  the  theatre  of  Ephesus.  It  is  important  to 
note,  however,  that  even  in  the  later  usage  a 
suggestion  of  its  original  meaning  continued  to 
adhere  to  it.  An  i/cKkT^aia  was  not  a  chance 
meeting  of  any  kind,  but  a  meeting  of  citizens 
summoned  for  some  object  that  bore  on  their 
*  Matt.  16  :  18i  18  :  17. 


32  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

corporate  life.*  It  has  sometimes  been  main- 
tained that  the  name  eventually  given  to  the 
Christian  community  meant  nothing  more  in 
the  first  instance  than  the  daily  or  weekly  meet- 
ing. But  this  theory  is  inadmissible  on  linguistic 
if  on  no  other  grounds.  Some  peculiar  signifi- 
cance must  have  attached  to  the  meeting  before 
it  could  be  described  by  the  august  and  expres- 
sive name  of  "the  Ecclesia." 

In  any  case,  the  name  had  evidently  a  specific 
reference  which  cannot  be  wholly  explained  from 
its  meaning  in  ordinary  Greek.  In  Paul's  Epistles 
it  is  frequently  qualified  by  the  added  words  rov 
Oeov;^  and  it  may  be  regarded  as  fairly  certain 
that  the  term  "Ecclesia"  is  only  a  shortened  form 
of  the  full  designation  "the  Ecclesia  of  God." 
With  this  clew  we  are  enabled  to  trace  it  to  its 
true  origin  in  the  Old  Testament,  where  it  ap- 
pears, in  the  Septuagint  version,  as  the  equivalent 
of  the  Hebrew  "Qahal."  Two  words  are  used 
in  Hebrew  for  the  community  of  Israel.  One  of 
them  refers  to  the  community  as  such,  whether 
met  together  or  scattered,  and  is  rendered  in  the 
Greek  translation  by  avvaycoyi].  The  other  is 
reserved  for  the  actual  gathering,  for  whatever 
purpose,  of  the  members  of  the  community;  and 
i/€K\7)(7{a    corresponds    with   this   second   word. J 

*Sohm,  "Kirchenrecht,"  I,  16. 

1 1  Cor.  1  :  2;  10  :  32;  11  :  22;  15  :  9;  Gal.  1  :  13;  I  Thess. 
2  :  14;  cf.  Acts  20  :  28. 

t  A  full  and  luminous  discussion  will  be  found  in  Hatch, 
"The  Christian  Ecclesia." 


THE  ECCLESIA  33 

There  are  signs,  however,  that  in  the  later  Old 
Testament  period  the  distinction  between  the 
two  terms  had  ceased  to  be  carefully  observed. 
Books  such  as  Ezra,  Nehemiah,  and  Chronicles 
employ  "Qahal"  freely,  apart  from  any  idea  of  a 
formal  assembly.  It  had  come  to  be  an  alterna- 
tive to  the  other  and  more  usual  term  for  the 
community,  although  suggesting,  in  a  more  sol- 
emn and  emphatic  manner,  that  the  community 
was  called  by  God. 

The  Christian  brotherhood,  then,  designated  it- 
self by  one  of  the  scriptural  names  for  the  chosen 
people,  but  why  this  particular  name  eKKk'qaia 
was  preferred  is  not  altogether  clear.  It  was  of 
rare  occurrence,  and  is  found  most  often  in  un- 
familiar books  which  contain  little  of  spiritual 
value.  We  might  have  expected  that  the  church 
would  rather  have  sought  a  title  for  itself  in  the 
Psalms  or  the  greater  prophets,  from  which  it 
derived  the  main  proof  texts  of  its  message.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  name  "Ecclesia"  gives  way  in 
a  number  of  New  Testament  passages  to  the  pro- 
phetic name  "the  people  of  God,'*  and  this  may 
possibly  represent  an  earlier  usage  which  com- 
peted for  some  time  with  the  other.  It  is  true 
that  the  unusual  character  of  the  word  "Ecclesia" 
was  itself  an  advantage,  especially  as  the  more 
common  Old  Testament  term  had  been  already 
appropriated  by  the  synagogue,  and  some  have 
supposed  that  the  disciples  purposely  chose  out 


34  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

a  recondite  word  so  as  to  make  their  title  more 
distinctive.  But  the  choice  of  the  word  can  be 
sufficiently  explained  from  the  accepted  religious 
usage  of  the  time.  There  are  various  indications 
that  the  Jewish  teachers  had  already  taken  the 
word  "Ecclesia"  and  stamped  it  with  a  particular 
meaning.  It  denoted  for  them  the  congregation 
of  Israel  in  its  ideal  aspect  as  the  assembly  of 
God's  people.  It  expressed  the  conception  not 
merely  of  a  community  but  of  a  holy  community.* 
By  the  connotation  it  thus  bore  it  commended  it- 
self to  the  disciples  as  the  name  which  best  de- 
scribed the  inward  nature  and  purpose  of  their 
brotherhood. 

One  further  question  of  a  preliminary  kind  re- 
mains to  be  considered.  In  the  Epistles  of  Paul, 
as  elsewhere  in  the  New  Testament,  iKKXr](Tia 
seems  often  to  be  used  in  a  restricted  and  local 
sense.  Paul  speaks  of  the  "church"  at  Corinth 
or  at  Thessalonica;  of  the  "churches"  under  his 
supervision;  even  the  little  group  of  Christians 
worshipping  in  some  particular  house  constitutes 
a  "church."  From  this  it  has  been  inferred  that 
the  local  meaning  of  the  name  is  the  primary  one. 
Each  separate  congregation  of  the  faithful  was  at 
first  an  eKKXyjaLa;  and  the  way  was  thus  prepared 
for   the    wider    conception    of   a   transcendental 

*  This  is  demonstrated  by  Schiirer,  "The  Jewish  People  in 
the  Time  of  Christ,"  vol.  II,  Division  II,  p.  59  (E.T.). 
Schiirer  concludes:  "SuvaYwyn  only  expresses  the  empiric 
matter  of  fact;  exxXijafa  contains  as  well  a  judgment  of  value." 


THE  ECCLESIA  35 

"church'^  which  was  reflected  in  all  the  separate 
communities.*  But  the  name  itself,  viewed  in 
the  light  of  its  origin,  requires  us  to  assume  that 
from  the  outset  the  ideal  significance  was  upper- 
most. A  Christian  assembly  could  be  an  eKKXrjala 
only  so  far  as  it  stood  for  the  whole  communion 
of  saints  and  bore  its  character.  The  references 
of  Paul  to  individual  "churches"  are  found,  on 
examination,  to  bear  out  this  larger  sense  which 
was  always  associated  with  the  w^ord.  When  he 
alludes  to  the  "  church  at  Corinth"  he  is  thinking 
not  so  much  of  the  separate  group  of  Christians 
as  of  the  holy  community  which  it  represents. 
There  is  only  one  Ecclesia  under  many  forms  of 
manifestation,  and  in  each  of  these  forms  the 
entire  church  is,  in  some  manner,  present.  At 
the  beginning  this  ideal  unity  of  the  church  was 
the  more  easily  discerned  as  it  corresponded  with 
the  visible  fact.  The  one  company  of  disciples, 
waiting  at  Jerusalem  for  the  Lord's  coming, 
could  feel  that  it  constituted  the  "church  of  God." 

What,  then,  was  the  conception  which  the  dis- 
ciples sought  to  embody  in  that  name  "Ecclesia"? 
The  broad  answer  to  this  question  is  not  hard  to 
determine.  The  church  regarded  itself  as  a  holy 
community  chosen  by  God  to  inherit  his  prom- 
ises, as  Israel  had  been  in  the  past.  As  in  its 
corporate  capacity  it  was  the  Ecclesia,  so  its 
*So  Batiffol,  "L'Eglise  naissante,"  pp.  80 #. 


36  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

individual  members  were  the  dyiot,  or  "  saints." 
They  had  been  called  by  God,  set  apart  by  him 
for  a  special  service  and  privilege.  But  to  under- 
stand this  conception  of  the  church  as*  the  holy 
community  we  require  to  analyse  it  further.  In 
the  light  of  the  New  Testament  evidence  we  can 
distinguish  two  ideas  that  were  implied  in  it. 
Ultimately,  as  we  shall  see,  they  were  one  and 
the  same,  but  they  need  first  to  be  considered 
separately. 

(1)  On  the  one  hand,  the  church  claimed  that 
it  represented  Israel  in  its  ideal  vocation.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Old  Testament,  God  had  chosen 
for  himself  one  people  out  of  all  the  nations  of  the 
earth,  and  in  the  observance  of  its  covenant  with 
God  Israel  was  to  find  its  true  life  and  destiny. 
It  was  assumed  in  the  earlier  times  that  nothing 
more  was  required  than  a  formal  worship,  and 
that  the  nation,  so  long  as  it  maintained  the  an- 
cestral rites  and  sacrifices,  fulfilled  the  conditions 
of  the  covenant.  But  the  prophets,  with  their 
ethical  conception  of  religion,  revised  this  tra- 
ditional view.  They  held  that  Israel  as  a  nation 
had  been  unfaithful  to  God,  and  had  no  more 
right  to  call  itself  his  people  than  the  surrounding 
heathen  whose  customs  and  morality  it  prac- 
tised. Yet  Israel  was  still  God*s  people  in  virtue 
of  the  "remnant" — the  pious  and  righteous  few 
who  stood  apart  from  the  general  corruption. 
They  were  only  a  small  minority,  but  they  con- 


THE  ECCLESIA  37 

stituted  the  true  Israel  inasmuch  as  they  alone 
were  faithful  to  the  higher  calling  of  the  nation. 
In  the  sight  of  God  the  "remnant"  was  Israel, 
and  through  it  he  would  work  out  his  purposes 
although  the  nation  as  a  whole  must  fall.  This 
prophetic  idea  of  an  Israel  within  Israel,  a  com- 
munity that  was  spiritually  a  people  of  God,  reap- 
pears under  many  forms  in  later  Jewish  thought; 
and  it  was  in  this  sense  that  the  disciples  advanced 
their  claim  to  be  the  Ecclesia.  They  took  their 
stand  on  the  acknowledged  fact  that  the  true 
Israel  was  something  other  than  the  actual  Israel. 
Age  after  age,  amidst  all  defections  and  corrup- 
tions, God  had  preserved  for  himself  a  remnant 
in  which  were  vested  the  hopes  and  prerogatives 
of  his  chosen  people.  It  had  now  found  its  em- 
bodiment in  the  Christian  church. 

The  view  has  been  generally  maintained,  or 
even  taken  for  granted,  that  the  name  "Ecclesia" 
was  adopted  by  way  of  challenge  and  implied  a 
feeling  of  antagonism  to  the  nation  and  the  na- 
tional religion.  As  contrasted  with  the  unbeliev- 
ing Jews,  the  church,  in  spite  of  its  apparent  in- 
significance, declared  itself  to  be  the  true  Israel. 
But  in  the  beginning,  at  all  events,  the  name  con- 
noted no  opposition  of  this  kind.  The  disciples 
were  anxious  to  preserve  a  friendly  attitude  to 
the  nation  and  considered  themselves  a  part  of 
it.  They  adhered  to  the  Law  and  the  established 
institutions.      They    limited    their    activities    to 


38         ^THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

their  own  country  and  were  conscious  of  no  man- 
date to  the  outside  world.  So  far,  indeed,  from 
involving  a  challenge,  the  name  "Ecclesia"  was 
itself  a  recognition  of  the  prerogatives  of  Israel. 
It  was  the  Jewish  people  whom  God  had  chosen; 
and  the  church,  as  the  genuine  core  of  the  nation, 
was  working  for  the  regeneration  of  the  whole 
and  awakening  it  to  the  sense  of  its  unique  place 
and  privilege.  That  this  was  the  original  inten- 
tion is  clearly  expressed  in  Peter's  speech  at 
Pentecost,  which  has  certainly  been  compiled  out 
of  genuine  reminiscences  of  the  earliest  mission- 
ary preaching.  "The  promise,"  says  Peter,  "is 
to  you  and  to  your  children" — Israel  as  a  nation 
is  summoned  to  identify  itself  with  the  heirs  of 
its  higher  traditions.  It  was  only  at  a  later  time, 
when  church  and  synagogue  had  definitely  parted 
company,  that  advantage  was  taken  of  the  name 
"Ecclesia"  to  point  a  contrast.  Paul  now  argues 
that  only  those  who  share  the  faith  of  Abraham 
are  to  be  reckoned  as  Abraham's  children.  He 
declares  boldly:  "We  are  the  circumcision,  who 
worship  God  in  the  Spirit  and  rejoice  in  Christ 
Jesus"  (Phil.  3:3).  In  the  Johannine  writings 
the  belief  has  hardened  into  a  dogma  that  the 
Jews  have  now  been  rejected  and  that  "Israel," 
in  the  reHgious  sense,  is  equivalent  to  the  Chris- 
tian church. 

The   conception   of   the   Ecclesia   as   the  true 
Israel  pervades  the  New  Testament,  and  has  con- 


THE  ECCLESIA  39 

stantly  to  be  borne  in  mind  before  its  language 
becomes  intelligible.  Again  and  again  the  pa- 
triarchs are  described  as  "our  fathers."  The 
division  into  twelve  tribes  is  supposed  to  hold 
good,  in  some  ideal  sense,  of  the  Christian  com- 
munity (James  1:1;  Rev.  7  :  4jf.).  Terms  and 
images  are  freely  borrowed  from  the  Old  Testa- 
ment and  are  transferred  to  conditions  prevailing 
in  the  church.  It  is  assumed  that  between  the 
ancient  Israel  and  the  new  there  is  an  essential 
solidarity,  so  that  the  life  of  the  one  can  be  il- 
lustrated and  interpreted  by  that  of  the  other. 
This  strain  in  New  Testament  thought  has  often 
been  misunderstood,  with  the  result  that  criticism 
has  involved  itself  in  needless  difficulties.  The 
allusions  to  Israel  have  been  supposed  to  mark 
those  writings  in  which  they  occur  as  of  Jewish 
origin  or  as  bearing  in  some  special  manner  on 
Jewish  interests.  One  writing  in  particular,  the 
so-called  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  has  been  uni- 
versally regarded,  until  quite  recent  times,  as  the 
appeal  of  a  Jewish  teacher  to  the  Jewish  section 
of  the  church.  But  in  reading  this  and  other  New 
Testament  books  we  must  take  account  of  that 
conception  of  the  true  Israel  which  had  now 
entered  into  the  very  substance  of  Christian 
thought.  Long  after  it  had  become  predomi- 
nantly gentile  the  Ecclesia  continued  to  be  in- 
fluenced by  the  ideas  suggested  by  its  name.  In 
no  merely  figurative  sense  it  conceived  of  itself 


40  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

as  Israel — one  with  the  ancient  community  of 
God's  people  and  heir  to  its  privileges  and  tra- 
ditions. 

The  belief  which  we  have  here  considered  had 
two  consequences,  both  of  them  natural  and  in- 
telligible, although  they  took  opposite  directions. 
(a)  On  the  one  hand,  it  tended  to  keep  the  church 
anchored  in  Judaism.  The  new  Israel  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  old,  and  must  preserve  a  certain 
continuity  with  it,  or  its  title  would  be  imperilled. 
There  could  be  no  question  of  breaking  away  from 
the  ancient  law  and  ritual.  Those  who  sought 
membership  in  the  Ecclesia  must  first  submit 
themselves  to  the  requirements  of  the  Jewish 
religion,  for  in  this  way  alone  could  they  be  in- 
corporated in  the  stock  of  Abraham.  When  we 
follow  the  great  controversy  that  threatened  to 
break  up  the  unity  of  the  early  church,  our  sym- 
pathies are  wholly  with  Paul,  and  we  are  liable 
to  do  an  injustice  to  his  Jewish  opponents.  We 
assume  that  by  force  of  custom  they  clung  to  the 
Law,  in  spite  of  the  new  faith  which  had  made  it 
obsolete,  and  sought  to  narrow  Christianity  into 
a  mere  phase  of  Judaism.  But  from  their  own 
point  of  view  they  were  just  as  consistent  as 
Paul,  and  as  eager  to  maintain  what  seemed  to 
them  a  necessary  Christian  principle.  If  the 
church  was  the  community  of  God's  people,  it 
must  hold  to  the  Law;  otherwise  its  identity  with 
the  historical  Israel  would  be  destroyed,  and  it 


THE  ECCLESIA  41 

would  forfeit  its  right  in  the  promises  made  to 
the  fathers.  Paul's  adversaries,  it  may  be  sur- 
mised, were  far  more  influenced  by  a  motive  of 
this  kind  than  by  any  conviction  of  the  intrinsic 
value  of  the  Law. 

(6)  Paul  himself  represented  the  other  tendency, 
which  was  implicit  from  the  first  in  the  concep- 
tion of  the  Ecclesia.  As  for  some  minds  it  em- 
phasised the  relation  of  the  church  to  Judaism, 
so  for  others  it  loosened  that  relation  and  at 
least  cancelled  it  altogether.  The  church  cor- 
responded with  Israel,  which  God  had  chosen  to 
inherit  his  promises,  but  what  was  meant  by 
Israel?  Not  the  actual  nation,  but  the  elect 
company  of  the  faithful,  who  had  realised  the 
conditions  of  Israel's  calling.  Their  right  to  be 
God's  people  was  not  founded  on  racial  descent 
but  on  knowledge  of  God  and  living  obedience 
to  his  will.  Apart  from  the  nation  there  had  al- 
ways been  an  ideal  Israel  consisting  of  God's 
true  servants,  and  to  this  hidden  community  the 
promises  had  been  given.  Thus  the  name  of 
Israel  was  emptied  of  all  its  reference  to  the 
nation  and  retained  only  its  spiritual  content. 
The  church  became  a  purely  religious  fellowship, 
in  which  all  men  of  whatever  race  were  free  to 
participate. 

These  two  opposing  ideas  were  not  long  in 
declaring  themselves,  and  their  conflict  and  in- 
teraction determined  the  whole  course  of  early 


42  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Christian  history.  But  in  the  beginning  their 
latent  antagonism  was  not  perceived.  The  church 
was  content  to  regard  itself  as  the  holy  commu- 
nity, wherein  Israel  asserted  its  true  vocation  and 
renewed  on  a  higher  plane  its  covenant  with  God. 
As  yet  there  was  no  suggestion  of  a  breach  with 
the  religion  of  the  Law.  The  church  was  fully 
conscious  of  its  call  to  the  new  service  imposed 
on  it  by  Christ,  but  it  accepted  the  service  as  in 
some  manner  the  fulfilment  of  the  work  of  Israel. 
Hence  the  name  which  it  chose  for  itself:  ^'the 
Ecclesia."  The  new  community  was  identical 
with  that  which  had  existed  at  all  times  within 
the  Jewish  nation  and  which  was  now  advancing, 
under  a  fresh  impulse,  to  the  realisation  of  its 
hopes. 

(2)  This  brings  us,  however,  to  another  meaning 
of  the  name — a  meaning  even  more  significant  of 
the  nature  and  outlook  of  primitive  Christianity. 
The  church  conceived  of  itself  not  only  as  the 
true  Israel  but  as  the  community  of  the  future, 
the  people  of  God  which  would  inherit  the  new 
age.  In  countless  passages  Paul  addresses  his 
readers  as  the  elect,  the  saints,  the  heirs  of  sal- 
vation. He  describes  them  as  passed  out  of 
darkness  into  light,  saved  from  condemnation, 
endowed  with  the  Spirit  of  adoption,  citizens  of 
heaven.  These  terms,  and  others  like  them,  have 
entered  so  thoroughly  into  our  own  religious  Ian- 


THE  ECCLESIA  43 

guage  that  we  scarcely  pause  to  think  of  their 
original  import.  But  they  all  run  back  to  that 
other  meaning  which  was  bound  up  with  the  con- 
ception of  the  Ecclesia.  The  church  believed  it- 
self to  be  the  community  of  the  kingdom.  Here  , 
we  discover  the  clew  not  only  to  many  of  its  most 
perplexing  phenomena  but  to  its  connection  with 
the  historical  work  of  Jesus. 

We  know  from  the  Gospels  that  Jesus  came 
forward  with  the  proclamation  that  the  kingdom 
of  God  was  at  hand;  in  other  words,  that  the  new 
age,  in  which  the  will  of  God  would  prevail, 
was  on  the  point  of  dawning.  Strictly  speaking, 
therefore,  his  message  had  reference  to  the  future. 
The  kingdom  was  yet  to  come,  and  he  sought  to 
enlighten  men  as  to  its  nature  and  conditions 
and  so  prepare  them  for  its  coming.  Nevertheless, 
while  he  proclaimed  a  future  kingdom,  he  thought 
of  it  as  so  near  at  hand  that  its  influences  could  be 
felt  already.  His  miracles  were  the  evidence  that 
a  higher  power  was  breaking  in.  His  teaching 
was  the  revelation  of  that  new  righteousness 
which  would  soon  be  established  everywhere. 
It  was  possible  for  men  to  apprehend  the  king- 
dom as  a  present  reality  and  to  throw  in  their 
lot  with  it  even  now. 

In  this  twofold  aspect,  therefore,  we  have  to 
understand  the  work  of  Jesus.  He  foretold  the 
kingdom  in  order  that  men  might  be  wrought  to 
a  "change  of  mind"  in  view  of  the  approaching 


44  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

crisis,  but  he  aimed  also  at  something  further. 
He  desired,  in  the  present,  to  build  up  a  commu- 
nity that  should  inherit  the  coming  kingdom.  For 
this  reason  he  gathered  around  him  his  band  of 
disciples  and  imparted  to  them  his  knowledge 
of  God  and  of  the  higher  law.  By  renewing  their 
wills  and  bringing  them  into  fellowship  with  God 
he  sought  to  conform  them  to  the  conditions  that 
would  prevail  hereafter.  The  kingdom  was  still 
future,  but  a  community  was  already  in  being 
which  had  broken  with  the  present  order  and  had 
identified  itself  with  that  which  was  to  come. 

It  is  from  this  point  of  view  that  we  must 
understand  the  consciousness  which  found  expres- 
sion in  the  name  "Ecclesia."  The  disciples  were 
aware  that  Jesus  had  destined  them  to  be  mem- 
bers of  the  kingdom  and  that  as  his  followers 
they  had  entered  potentially  on  their  inheritance. 
No  doubt  there  was  a  meaning  in  his  thought 
which  they  did  not  fully  grasp.  The  kingdom,  as 
he  conceived  it,  was,  above  all,  a  new  righteous- 
ness and  a  new  relation  to  God;  and  his  essential 
teaching  remained  unimpaired  when,  in  the  course 
of  time,  the  apocalyptic  framework  fell  away. 
But  the  message  was  given  within  that  frame- 
work, and  it  was  this  aspect  of  it  that  chiefly 
occupied  the  minds  of  the  disciples.  They  saw 
themselves  as  the  holy  community,  the  heirs  of 
that  new  age  which  would  presently  be  inaugu- 
rated when  the  Lord  returned  in  power.     They 


THE  ECCLESIA  45 

felt  that  for  them  it  had  already,  in  some  sense, 
begun,  and  that  they  had  their  part  in  a  higher 
supernatural  order.  The  apocalyptic  mood  of 
thought  is  now  remote  from  us,  and  we  find  it 
diflacult  to  put  ourselves  in  the  attitude  of  those 
first  believers  to  whom  it  was  an  intense  reality. 
We  are  apt  to  interpret  their  hopes  and  convic- 
tions in  a  figurative  sense  and  to  strip  away 
what  seem  to  us  the  mere  fantastic  wrappings. 
But  in  doing  so  we  miss  what  was  precisely  the 
determining  factor  in  the  life  and  thinking  of  the 
early  church.  It  looked  daily  for  a  tremendous 
crisis  in  which  the  old  order  of  things  would  be 
swept  away  and  a  new  world  would  emerge 
wherein  God  would  reign.  He  would  form  for 
himself  a  holy  people  to  inherit  eternal  life  in 
that  new  world.  And  the  church  believed  itself 
to  be  the  nucleus  of  that  future  community.  It 
was  like  a  fragment  of  the  heavenly  order  thrown 
forward  into  the  present,  and  had  mysterious 
powers  and  functions  committed  to  it.  Its  affin- 
ities were  not  with  any  earthly  society  but  with 
the  assembly  of  the  first-born  in  heaven. 

There  is  nothing  more  impressive  in  the  New 
Testament  than  the  magnificent  confidence  which 
underlies  the  argument  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Ephesians.  It  is  there  assumed  that  the  church 
has  nothing  less  than  a  cosmical  significance, 
representing  on  earth  the  same  divine  power 
which  is  working  in  heavenly  places.     God  has 


46  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

purposed  to  reconcile  all  the  warring  elements  in 
his  creation,  and  the  beginning  of  this  great  con- 
summation is  his  church.  How  was  it  possible, 
we  ask  ourselves,  for  the  Christian  brotherhood 
to  conceive  in  such  term  of  its  mission?  It  was 
still  an  obscure  and  persecuted  sect,  and  scarcely 
a  generation  had  passed  since  it  came  into  being 
with  that  handful  of  adherents  in  Jerusalem.  By 
what  strange  development  had  it  arrived  so 
speedily  at  that  lofty  consciousness  of  its  nature 
and  calling?  But  the  answer  is  that  from  the 
very  first,  in  spite  of  its  outward  insignificance, 
the  church  had  believed  itself  to  be  a  supernatural 
community  and  had  found  warrant  for  this  be- 
lief in  our  Lord's  own  teaching.  He  had  fore- 
told the  kingdom,  had  called  his  disciples  to  pos- 
sess it,  had  taught  them  that  even  now  they 
might  break  with  the  old  order  and  have  their 
portion  with  the  new.  From  the  moment  when 
they  were  reunited  in  Jerusalem  under  the  im- 
pulse of  the  resurrection  they  laid  claim  to  a 
citizenship  which  was  in  heaven. 

The  conception  of  the  Ecclesia  was  thus  a  two- 
fold one.  On  the  one  hand,  the  church  was  the 
true  Israel,  continuous  with  that  elect  body  which 
had  always  existed  in  the  nation;  on  the  other 
hand,  it  was  the  new  heavenly  community.  These 
two  ideas,  different  as  they  might  appear  at  first 
sight,  merged  in  one  another.    When  the  prophets 


THE  ECCLESIA  47 

distinguished  an  Israel  within  Israel  they  had  in 
view  the  fulfilment  of  God's  promises  in  the  bet- 
ter time  that  was  coming.  A  deliverance  was  at 
hand,  but  it  was  reserved  for  the  faithful  "rem- 
nant" which  constituted  the  true  nation.  At  a 
later  period  this  thought  was  amplified  and  de- 
fined under  the  light  of  the  apocalyptic  hope. 
A  belief  grew  up — we  find  clear  traces  of  it  as 
early  as  the  book  of  Daniel — that  in  the  new  age 
God  would  raise  to  life  again  his  servants  of  past 
days  and  unite  them  with  those  still  living,  thus 
forming  for  himself  a  holy  people.  This  tra- 
ditional hope  was  reflected  in  the  conception  of 
the  church.  It  was  at  once  a  new  community 
and  a  regenerated  Israel,  entering  at  last  on  its 
inheritance.  The  principles  for  which  it  stood 
had  ever  been  central  in  the  history  of  God's 
people,  and  were  now  carried  to  their  fulfilment. 
Its  members  would  sit  down  in  the  kingdom  of 
God  with  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  all  the 
faithful  Israelites  of  the  past.  Thus  at  the  be- 
ginning the  two  ideas  of  the  new  community  and 
the  true  Israel  coalesced,  but  they  tended  to 
separate  as  the  apocalyptic  mood  which  had  fused 
them  grew  less  intense.  Conceiving  of  itself  as 
heir  to  the  historical  Israel,  the  church  took  on 
the  organisation  of  an  earthly  society,  although 
the  conditions  of  membership  were  now  ethical 
and  religious  instead  of  racial.  The  institutions 
of  Judaism  were  borrowed,  with  necessary  adap- 


48  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

tations  to  the  changed  requirements.  The  gospel 
itself  was  regarded  as  the  "new  law/'  and  was 
exhibited  as  a  body  of  definite  statutes,  like  the 
Law  of  Moses.  But  there  always  remained  the 
other  side  to  the  church's  consciousness.  Al- 
though outwardly  a  society  like  any  other,  it 
claimed  to  be  invested  with  mysterious  attributes 
and  to  be  separated  from  the  world. 

From  the  outset,  then,  the  church  thought  of 
itself  as  the  new  community  corresponding  with 
that  supernatural  order  which  would  presently 
be  revealed.  Here  we  have  a  fact  that  cannot  be 
too  much  insisted  on,  for  the  customary  neglect 
of  it  has  warped  our  whole  attitude  toward  the 
beginnings  of  Christian  history.  We  take  for 
granted  that  the  church  entered  on  its  career 
with  horizons  and  ambitions  which  were  in  keep- 
ing with  its  narrow  circumstances,  and  that  it 
stumbled  on  its  great  vocation  by  a  sort  of  ac- 
cident. For  a  time  it  was  nothing  but  an  insig- 
nificant sect  of  Judaism  and  aspired  to  no  higher 
destiny;  then,  under  various  influences,  it  grew 
to  a  fuller  consciousness  and  emerged  as  a  world- 
wide power.  But  the  truth  is  that  at  no  time  in 
its  history  has  the  church  been  possessed  with  so 
lofty  a  sense  of  its  calling  as  in  those  days  of  small 
beginnings.  It  held  the  belief  that  the  world  was 
face  to  face  with  a  mighty  crisis  in  which  the 
whole  present  order  of  things  would  come  to  an 
end  and  a  new  age  would  set  in.    The  people  of 


THE  ECCLESIA  49 

Christ  were  to  reign  with  him  in  this  new  age. 
Outwardly  they  might  appear  an  obscure  and 
struggling  sect,  but  they  knew  themselves  to  be 
"a  chosen  generation,  a  royal  priesthood,  a  holy 
nation"  (I  Peter  2:9).  They  beheved  that  al- 
ready they  belonged  to  the  new  order  and  had 
their  share  in  the  powers  and  privileges  of  the 
kingdom  of  God. 

The  ideal  picture  of  the  early  church  which 
is  set  before  us  in  the  opening  chapters  of  Acts 
has  fared  ill  at  the  hands  of  criticism.  It  has 
been  ascribed  almost  wholly  to  the  pious  retro- 
spect of  a  later  writer,  to  whom  the  first  age  ap- 
peared as  a  unique  period  when  the  hand  of  God 
was  manifestly  with  his  people.  Visions  were 
then  granted  to  the  saints,  miraculous  energies 
were  intrusted  to  them,  which  were  afterward 
withdrawn.  By  marvellous  signs  it  was  made  evi- 
dent that  through  the  church  God  was  seeking  to 
work  out  his  redeeming  purposes.  Now,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  argue  that  the  picture  must  be  largely 
fanciful  and  that  the  young  community,  strug- 
gling for  its  very  existence  in  the  midst  of  poverty 
and  danger,  can  have  been  surrounded  with  no 
such  halo  as  that  which  Luke  bestows  upon  it. 
Yet  in  one  sense  his  description  is  truer  to  the 
facts  than  the  more  sober  and  probable  one  which 
modern  historians  would  put  in  its  place.  The 
primitive  disciples  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of 
hopes  and  visions.    They  never  doubted  that  they 


60  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

were  endowed  with  supernatural  powers,  that 
they  constituted  a  society  which  was  not  of  this 
world.  They  lost  sight  of  the  difficult  present, 
with  its  afflictions  that  were  but  for  a  moment, 
as  they  looked  to  the  glory  that  would  be  re- 
vealed. It  was  this  initial  mood  of  elevation  and 
confidence  that  made  possible  the  subsequent 
triumph. 

A  discussion  of  the  nature  and  purpose  of  the 
Ecclesia  has  been  necessary  before  we  could  ap- 
proach a  question  which  is  of  crucial  importance 
in  the  study  of  Christian  origins.  What  was  the 
relation  of  Jesus  to  the  church?  Was  he  in  some 
conscious  and  literal  sense  its  founder  or  did  he 
at  the  most  communicate  an  impulse  which  had 
its  outcome  in  the  later  organisation?  A  number 
of  sayings  in  the  Gospels  undoubtedly  seem  to 
indicate  that  the  church  was  directly  contem- 
plated by  Jesus,  and  that  he  laid  down  rules  for 
its  guidance  and  administration.  But  it  is  more 
than  probable  that  such  sayings,  as  we  now  have 
them,  have  been  adapted  and  modified.  At  the 
time  when  our  Gospels  were  written  the  church, 
as  an  institution,  had  become  a  central  interest 
in  Christian  thought,  and  it  was  inevitable  that 
references  to  it  should  be  sought  for  in  the  words 
of  Jesus.  Precepts  that  had  originally  borne  a 
more  general  import  were  now  applied  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  church.     Parables  of  the 


THE  ECCLESIA  51 

kingdom  were  so  altered  in  thought  and  language 
as  to  foreshadow  the  later  conditions.  It  is  sig- 
nificant that  sayings  and  parables  of  this  kind  are 
most  frequent  in  the  Gospel  of  Matthew,  which 
seems  to  have  been  written  with  the  requirements 
of  the  church  in  view  and  was  accepted  from  the 
first  as  the  Catholic  Gospel.  According  to  Mat- 
thew, our  Lord  on  two  occasions*  employed  the 
actual  word  "Ecclesia'' — once  in  regard  to  the 
treatment  of  the  erring  brother  and  a  second 
time  in  the  famous  promise  to  Peter:  "On  this 
rock  I  will  build  my  church."  If  this  passage  is 
genuine,  our  whole  conception  of  the  work  and 
aims  of  Jesus  would  need  to  be  revised;  for  the 
words  scarcely  admit  of  any  other  interpreta- 
tion than  that  which  has  always  been  given  them 
by  the  church  of  Rome — that  the  purpose  of 
Jesus  was  to  found  an  organisation  of  which  he 
expressly  designated  Peter  as  the  head.  But  it 
does  not  seem  possible  to  accept  the  words  as 
authentic.  They  occur  in  connection  with  a 
cardinal  incident  impressively  recorded  by  all  the 
three  Synoptists;  yet  only  Matthew  appears  to 
know  that  Jesus  uttered  them.  Not  only  so,  but 
they  are  quite  out  of  keeping  with  the  incident, 
disguising  its  real  character  and  breaking  up  a 
sequence  of  thought  which  in  Mark's  version  is 
clear  and  intelligible.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say 
that  nowhere  in  the  Gospels  do  we  have  stronger 
♦Matt.  18:  17:16:  18. 


52  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

evidence  of  interpolation  than  in  this  memorable 
passage. 

That  Jesus  provided  for  the  upbuilding  of  a 
regular  society  for  the  perpetuation  of  his  work 
is  hardly  conceivable  in  view  of  the  apocalyptic 
character  of  his  message.  Adopting,  as  he  did, 
the  current  anticipation  of  a  great  crisis,  already 
imminent,  his  perspective  of  the  future  did  not 
admit  of  any  far-stretching  horizons.  He  looked 
not  for  a  gradual  development,  brought  about  by 
historical  forces,  but  for  an  abrupt  change  ef- 
fected by  the  immediate  act  of  God  and  "within 
this  generation."  Apart,  however,  from  these 
apocalyptic  hopes  in  which  he  acquiesced,  the  idea 
of  an  organised  church  was  alien  to  the  essential 
nature  of  his  thinking.  He  declares  repeatedly 
that  all  earthly  institutions  are  part  and  parcel 
of  "this  age."  In  the  kingdom  of  God  the  re- 
lations between  man  and  man  will  be  wholly 
changed,  and  there  will  be  no  place  for  the  old 
social  organisms.  The  very  meaning  of  the  king- 
dom consists  in  this — that  men  will  yield  spon- 
taneous obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  and  through 
love  to  God  will  serve  one  another.  All  the  con- 
straints imposed  by  outward  rule  and  ordinance 
will  be  needless  in  the  new  age,  when  men  are 
wrought  into  inward  harmony  with  the  divine 
will. 

It  has  sometimes  been  argued  that  the  univer- 
sality of  Jesus'  message  implied  an  anticipation 


THE  ECCLESIA  53 

of  the  church.  If  he  intended  his  gospel  for  all 
mankind,  not  merely  for  Israel  or  the  small 
section  of  Israel  that  had  the  opportunity  of 
hearing  him,  must  he  not  have  instituted  a  soci- 
ety for  the  purpose  of  safeguarding  and  diffusing 
it?  There  can,  indeed,  be  no  reasonable  question 
that  he  conceived  of  the  message  as  appealing  to 
all  men,  and  drawing  multitudes  from  the  East 
and  the  West  to  participate  in  the  kingdom  of 
God.  To  think  of  him  as  confining  the  number 
of  his  elect  to  those  few  whom  he  was  able  to 
reach  by  his  personal  ministry  is  utterly  to  mis- 
take the  purpose  of  his  work.  But  it  is  not 
necessary  to  infer  that  he  looked  for  the  great  in- 
gathering as  the  result  of  a  concerted  mission  by 
an  organised  church.  To  his  own  mind  the  truths 
he  proclaimed  were  self-evident,  and  he  may  have 
believed  that  the  world  would  spontaneously  ac- 
cept them  now  that  they  had  been  revealed. 
Or,  more  probably,  he  may  have  supposed  that 
the  enlightenment  would  be  effected  by  some 
supernatural  means  after  he  had  given  his  life 
as  a  ransom  for  many.  In  what  manner  he  ex- 
pected his  message  to  diffuse  itself  we  cannot 
tell,  but  there  is  no  indication  that  he  deemed  it 
necessary  to  institute  a  society  for  this  end. 

It  is  impossible,  then,  to  maintain  the  view 
that  Jesus  deliberately  founded  the  church  and 
assigned  to  it  the  work  which  it  was  destined  to 
accomplish  in  the  course  of  the  long  centuries. 


54  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Nevertheless,  the  church  was  his  creation,  not 
merely  in  so  far  as  he  gave  the  impulse  that  called 
it  into  being,  but  in  a  more  definite  sense.  The 
new  age  which  he  proclaimed  was  associated  in 
his  mind  with  a  community  of  God's  people,  and 
he  sought  to  gather  around  him  a  band  of  fol- 
lowers who  should  be  the  nucleus  of  this  com- 
munity. We  are  used  to  think  of  the  disciples  as 
called  by  Jesus  that  he  might  prepare  them  for 
their  subsequent  work  of  Apostleship,  and  it  is 
true  that  in  the  Gospel  records  they  appear  as 
helping  him  in  the  dissemination  of  his  message. 
But  it  was  not  primarily  for  active  service  of 
this  kind  that  he  summoned  them  to  his  fellow- 
ship. His  real  purpose  was  clearly  expressed  in 
the  significant  number  of  twelve  to  which  he 
limited  his  personal  followers.  They  were  repre- 
sentative of  the  new  community  which  God 
would  choose  for  himself,  as  formerly  he  had 
chosen  Israel.  Their  vocation  was  not  so  much 
to  proclaim  the  kingdom  to  others  as  to  lay  hold 
on  it  themselves  and  exemplify  the  higher  moral 
order  and  the  closer  relation  to  God.  *' Rejoice 
not,''  he  said  when  they  returned  from  the  mis- 
sion on  which  he  had  sent  them,  "  that  the  demons 
are  subject  unto  you,  but  that  your  names  are 
written  in  heaven."  This  was  their  real  task 
and  glory — to  be  themselves  the  first-fruits  of  the 
new  people  of  God. 

Jesus,   then,   had   no   thought   of  founding   a 


THE  ECCLESIA  55 

society  that  would  perpetuate  his  work  when  he 
had  himself  departed,  but  the  church  was  none 
the  less  his  creation.  The  Ecclesia  which  grew 
up  at  Jerusalem  and  gradually  expanded  into  a 
world-wide  organisation  was  only  the  enlarge- 
ment of  that  brotherhood  which  he  had  himself 
formed  when  he  called  to  himself  twelve  disciples 
as  heirs  of  the  kingdom.  It  has  been  said  "  Jesus 
gave  the  promise  of  the  kingdom,  and  instead  of 
it  there  came  the  church."  By  this  is  implied 
that  after  his  death  his  followers  misunderstood 
or  abandoned  the  lofty  hopes  he  had  cherished, 
and  contented  themselves  with  building  up  an 
earthly  society.  Between  his  aim  and  theirs  there 
was  practically  nothing  in  common.  But  when 
we  examine  more  closely  into  the  history  of  the 
primitive  age  we  discover  the  thought  of  Jesus 
still  operative  in  the  minds  of  his  disciples.  He 
had  chosen  them  as  the  nucleus  of  the  new  com- 
munity, and  their  work  was  influenced  through- 
out by  this  estimate  of  their  calling.  They  desig- 
nated themselves  "the  Ecclesia."  Their  function, 
as  they  conceived  it,  was  not  so  much  to  build 
up  the  church  as  to  be  the  church.  In  course  of 
time,  no  doubt,  the  earlier  ideal  gave  way  to  that 
of  a  great  society,  formally  organised  and  con- 
secrating itself  to  moral  and  religious  work.  But 
while  it  thus  changed  its  character,  the  church 
continued,  and  has  continued  to  this  day,  to 
bear  the  impress  of  its  origin.     It  was  conscious 


56  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

that  although  an  earthly  institution  it  was  still 
allied  with  a  supernatural  order,  which  by  means 
of  it  was  realising  itself  on  earth. 


LECTURE  III 

THE   GIFT   OF  THE   SPIRIT 

The  church,  if  we  have  rightly  understood  its 
original  character,  was  the  direct  outcome  of  the 
work  of  Jesus.  He  had  foretold  the  kingdom  of 
God,  and  had  chosen  his  disciples  as  the  nucleus 
of  the  new  community  that  should  possess  it. 
After  his  death  they  maintained  the  conscious- 
ness of  their  vocation.  They  beUeved  that  Jesus 
would  shortly  return  as  Messiah  to  bring  in  the 
kingdom,  and  that  they  themselves  were  the  des- 
tined people  of  God.  Though  not  yet  delivered 
from  the  present  age,  they  had  thrown  in  their 
lot  with  the  future,  and  had  part  in  the  higher 
order  which  was  soon  to  be  established.  This 
was  the  constitutive  idea  of  the  primitive  church, 
and  in  the  Ught  of  it  we  are  able  to  explain  much 
that  would  otherwise  be  dark  and  unintelligible. 

The  conception  of  the  church  as  the  community 
of  the  new  age  is  vitally  related  to  another  which 
meets  us  everywhere  in  early  Christian  thought. 
Indeed,  as  we  shall  find  reason  to  conclude,  the  two 
conceptions  are  wholly  dependent  on  each  other 
and  cannot  be  separated.  The  church,  as  con- 
trasted with  mere  earthly  societies,  regarded  itself 

67 


i^ 


58  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

as  a  spiritual  organism,  quickened  and  controlled 
by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Throughout 
the  book  of  Acts  we  are  made  to  realise  that 
this  was  the  grand  characteristic  of  the  church; 
and  the  evidence  of  Acts  is  more  than  confirmed 
by  Paul.  In  many  respects,  it  is  true,  Paul  ad- 
vances on  the  earlier  doctrine — enlarging  and 
deepening  it,  and  applying  it  in  new  directions. 
But  he  takes  for  granted  that  in  his  underlying 
thought  his  readers  are  at  one  with  him.  They, 
like  himself,  are  convinced  that  the  Spirit  has 
been  imparted  to  the  church  as  the  one  rule  of 
its  life,  the  earnest  of  its  hopes,  the  power  that 
guides  it  in  difficulties,  and  insures  its  welfare 
and  peace.  All  the  activities  of  the  church  are 
the  varied  manifestations  of  the  Spirit,  which  has 
been  communicated  to  all  its  members  and  to 
them  alone. 

Luke  has  described,  in  a  story  familiar  to  every 
one,  the  first  outpouring  of  the  Spirit.  The  dis- 
ciples were  met  for  prayer,  according  to  their 
custom,  when  the  room  was  shaken  by  a  rushing 
wind,  and  tongues  of  flame  descended  on  each 
one  of  them.  They  went  forth  to  proclaim  their 
message  to  the  multitude  assembled  for  the  feast 
of  Pentecost  from  all  parts  of  the  earth,  and  found 
themselves  able  to  address  each  different  race  in 
its  own  language.  It  may  well  be  that  behind 
this  narrative  in  Acts  there  is  the  record  of  some 
day  uniquely  memorable  in  the  history  of  the 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  59 

church.  Several  modern  scholars  have  discovered 
another  trace  of  the  same  incident  in  PauFs 
allusion  to  the  appearance  of  the  risen  Christ  to 
"more  than  five  hundred  brethren  at  once"  (I 
Cor.  15  :  6).  But  this  is  a  mere  conjecture,  and 
has  very  little  to  support  it.  The  appearance  to 
the  five  hundred  seems  to  point  to  Galilee  rather 
than  Jerusalem,  and  was  significant  solely  for  its 
bearing  on  the  resurrection.  Moreover,  Luke  is  \ 
not  describing  the  descent  of  the  Spirit  on  a  great 
number.  He  thinks  of  a  private  meeting  of  the 
disciples,  who  alone  participate  in  the  wonderful 
experience,  and  in  the  strength  of  it  make  their^ 
appeal  to  the  multitude.  So  far  as  the  incident 
is  historical  it  goes  back,  apparently,  to  some  oc- 
casion when  the  little  company  was  met  at  Jeru- 
salem and  became  conscious  for  the  first  time  of 
the  strange  phenomenon  of  the  speaking  with 
tongues.  But  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the 
narrative,  as  we  find  it  in  Acts,  is  mainly  legen- 
dary. For  one  thing,  it  is  incredible  that  so  mar- 
vellous an  extension  of  the  church  (three  thou- 
sand converts  in  one  day)  should  have  taken  place 
at  that  early  time.  All  our  evidence  tends  to 
show  that  the  community  enlarged  itself  slowly 
and  gradually,  and  was  still  inconsiderable  in 
numbers  long  after  the  day  of  Pentecost.  Again, 
the  miracle  as  represented  to  us  was  unnecessary. 
The  many  nationalities  whose  names  are  recorded 
all  belonged  to  the  circle  of  Greek-speaking  peo- 


60  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

pies,  and  did  not  require  to  be  addressed  in  their 
native  dialects.  With  the  Greek  language  alone 
Paul  was  able  to  prosecute  his  world-wide  mission. 
The  miracle  at  Pentecost,  if  we  insist  on  accept- 
ing it  as  historical,  can  only  have  been  an  exhibi- 
tion miracle,  serving  no  useful  end.  Once  more, 
and  this  is  the  decisive  point,  the  gift  of  Glos- 
solalia,  or  speaking  with  tongues,  was  a  well- 
recognised  phenomenon  in  the  early  church,  and 
had  nothing  in  common  with  the  miraculous  gift 
described  in  Acts.  Paul  discusses  it  fully  in 
chapters  12-14  of  I  Corinthians,  and  while  various 
features  in  his  account  are  not  altogether  clear, 
it  is  quite  evident  that  he  had  something  else  in 
his  mind  than  a  speaking  in  foreign  languages. 
We  cannot  suppose  that  Luke  was  ignorant  of 
the  true  nature  of  Glossolalia,  which  continued 
all  through  the  first  century  to  be  one  of  the  out- 
standing elements  in  Christian  worship.  He  him- 
self refers  to  it  more  than  once  in  subsequent 
passages  of  Acts,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  to  in- 
dicate that  he  was  familiar  with  its  character. 
How,  then,  are  we  to  account  for  this  strange 
transformation  of  the  facts  in  the  narrative  of 
Pentecost?  Most  probably  it  has  to  be  explained 
from  that  love  of  symbolism  which  betrays  itself 
again  and  again  in  both  of  Luke's  writings.  He 
is  preparing  to  tell  the  story  of  how  the  gospel 
was  spread  abroad  among  all  nations,  and  he 
commences  with  a  symbolic  incident,  in  which 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  61 

the  later  course  of  events  is  reflected  in  minia- 
ture. Men  of  all  races  are  assembled  to  witness  | 
the  nativity  of  the  church  at  Jerusalem,  and  they 
all  hear  the  gospel  addressed  to  them  in  their 
own  tongues.  The  symboHsm  possibly  extends 
yet  further.  Pentecost  was  the  commemoration 
of  the  giving  of  the  Law,  and  according  to  a  rab- 
binical legend,  of  which  we  have  a  reminiscence 
in  Philo,*  when  God  proclaimed  the  Law  on 
Mount  Sinai  his  voice  divided  itself  into  seventy 
languages,  representing  all  the  races  of  mankind. 
To  Luke  the  beginning  of  the  church  is  the 
counterpart  of  Sinai.  It  marked  the  promulga- 
tion of  the  new  law,  which,  like  the  old  one,  was 
uttered  in  many  tongues,  as  a  law  for  all  nations. 
That  the  narrative  in  Acts  assumed  its  present 
form  under  the  influence  of  ideas  like  these  is 
more  than  possible;  and  the  conjecture  is  partly 
borne  out  by  critical  analysis.  Luke  appears  to 
make  use  of  a  primitive  fragment,  to  which  he 
has  added  his  own  account  of  the  speaking  in 
strange  tongues.  It  is  significant  that  in  Peter's 
speech,  which  immediately  follow^s,  no  reference 
is  made  to  the  miracle,  and  that  the  comment  of 
the  multitude  is  simply:  "They  are  full  of  new 
wine."  Thus  it  may  be  inferred  that  the  original 
story  told  only  of  the  earUest  outburst  of  the  well- 
known  Glossolalia.  Luke  has  taken  advantage 
of  this  incident  supplied  to  him  by  his  sources  to 
*  De  Decal.  9  :  11. 


62  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

elaborate  a  symbolical  legend,  which  serves  as  a 
frontispiece  to  the  ensuing  history. 

Leaving  for  the  present  the  question  of  those 
"spiritual  gifts/'  which  come  before  us  first  in 
the  story  of  Pentecost,  we  have  now  to  consider 
the  theory  that  was  associated  with  them  in  the 
primitive  church.  They  were  prized  for  their 
own  sake,  as  the  means  whereby  the  church  was 
strengthened  and  helped  forward  in  its  mission. 
Yet  Paul  acknowledges  that  even  the  speaking 
with  tongues,  the  most  characteristic  of  all  the 
gifts,  was  itself  of  subordinate  value.  The  chief 
importance  of  this  and  of  all  the  accompanying 
gifts  lay  rather  in  the  evidence  afforded  by  them 
that  a  divine  power  was  at  work  in  the  church. 
It  was  the  community  of  the  Spirit. 

Behind  the  doctrine  of  the  Spirit  as  it  meets  us 
in  the  New  Testament  there  lies  a  long  and  com- 
plex history  which  has  only  been  partially  un- 
ravelled by  the  investigations  of  modern  scholars. 
It  is  probable  that  the  conception  w^as  originally 
foreign  to  the  religion  of  Israel  and  that  its  roots 
must  be  sought  in  primitive  animistic  belief. 
The  Spirit  appears  in  the  earlier  literature  of  the 
Old  Testament  as  something  independent  of 
Jahveh.*  It  is  an  irresponsible  power,  apparently 
demonic  in  its  nature,  which  takes  possession  of 
*  Volz,  "Der  Geist  Gottes,"  pp.  10  #. 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  63 

certain  men  from  time  to  time,  and  causes  them 
to  act  in  a  manner  that  cannot  be  explained. 
The  man  on  whom  the  Spirit  has  fallen  "  becomes 
another  man,"  whether  for  good  or  evil;  his  own 
will  is  overmastered  by  a  supernatural  impulse. 
But  this  primitive  conception  of  a  power  that 
acted  independently  could  not  maintain  itself 
alongside  of  Hebrew  monotheism.  Under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  prophets  the  Spirit  is  transformed 
into  the  Spirit  of  Jahveh  and  is  strictly  subor- 
dinated to  his  will  and  purposes.  At  the  same 
time  the  earlier  ideas  continue  to  be  attached  to  it. 
Its  action  is  manifested  in  strange  occurrences — 
abnormal  energies  and  impulses,  endowments 
that  are  beyond  the  measure  of  human  wisdom. 
It  is  a  supernatural  power,  breaking  in  upon  the 
settled  order  of  things,  and  is  thus  the  peculiar 
attribute  of  the  divine  life.  God  himself  pos- 
sesses the  Spirit  in  unlimited  measure,  while  in 
men  it  appears  as  something  alien  and  intermit- 
tent. Man  is  flesh  and  not  Spirit,  and  the  weak- 
ness of  his  nature  can  only  be  overcome  at  in- 
tervals by  the  descent  upon  him  of  the  higher 
influence. 

The  action  of  the  Spirit  was  discerned  in  all 
supernatural  phenomena  but  more  especially  in 
the  enhghtenment  of  the  prophet.  This  may 
partly  be  accounted  for  by  the  ecstatic  character 
of  prophecy  in  the  earlier  times.  The  prophet 
uttered  his  message  in  a  condition  of  frenzy,  which 


64  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

seemed  to  be  due  to  the  entrance  of  the  Spirit 
into  the  human  agent.  But  in  later  prophecy 
these  physical  accompaniments  were  entirely  ab- 
sent. The  one  mark  of  the  prophet  was  his 
possession  of  a  higher  insight  and  illumination; 
and  it  was  in  this  that  the  great  ethical  prophets 
discerned  the  operation  of  the  Spirit.  The  idea 
that  the  Spirit  is  manifested  above  all  in  prophecy 
connects  itself  with  a  larger  idea  which  pervades 
the  Old  Testament  and  which  requires  a  some- 
what closer  consideration. 

We  read  in  the  book  of  Numbers*  how  seventy 
elders  were  endowed  with  the  Spirit  in  order  that 
they  might  act  as  assessors  to  Moses  in  the  work 
of  judging  Israel.  Two  men  who  were  not  of 
the  authorised  number  began,  like  them,  to  proph- 
esy, and  when  complaint  was  made  to  Moses 
he  exclaimed:  "Would  God  that  all  the  Lord's 
people  were  prophets,  and  that  the  Lord  would 
put  his  Spirit  upon  them."  The  passage  belongs 
to  one  of  the  later  strata  of  the  Pentateuch  and 
reflects  a  train  of  thought  which  meets  us  again 
and  again  in  the  prophetical  books.  Isaiah  f 
anticipates  a  time  when  the  Spirit  will  be  poured 
out  on  all  the  seed  of  Israel.  Jeremiah  J  declares, 
in  a  memorable  passage,  that  a  day  is  coming 
when  men  will  require  no  longer  to  teach  their 
brethren,  for  all  alike  will  know  the  Lord,  from 

*  Num.  11  :  16  #.  t  Isaiah  44  :  3;  32  :  15. 

t  Jer.  31  :  33,  34. 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  65 

the  least  to  the  greatest.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
perceive  the  thought  that  underlies  these  and 
similar  passages.  Israel  is  the  chosen  nation  and 
in  its  ideal  character  is  endowed  with  the  true 
knowledge  of  God.  The  nation  as  such  has  fallen 
short  of  its  vocation,  and  the  higher  enlighten- 
ment is  only  given  intermittently  to  the  prophets, 
who  exemplify  what  is  central  and  essential  in  the 
life  of  Israel.  But  these  individual  men  to  whom 
God  reveals  himself  are  the  guarantees  of  a  holy 
nation  in  the  future.  A  time  is  coming  when  the 
ideal  conditions  will  be  realised  and  all  God's 
people  will  be  prophets  and  will  receive  of  his 
Spirit.  This,  then,  is  the  characteristic  Old  Testa- 
ment doctrine.  The  Spirit  is  the  divine  power 
bestowed  on  those  whom  God  has  set  apart  to 
be  his  servants.  But  since  Israel  as  a  nation  is 
God's  servant,  his  Spirit  ought  to  reside  in  all 
Israelites,  not  merely  in  the  few  chosen  natures. 
As  yet  this  cannot  be;  but  in  the  future  age, 
when  Israel  is  a  holy  people  in  fact  as  well  as 
in  name,  the  Spirit  will  be  a  universal  possession. 
"It  shall  come  to  pass  afterwards,"  says  the 
prophet  Joel  in  words  which  are  quoted  in  Peter's 
speech  at  Pentecost.  "  I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit 
on  all  flesh,  and  your  sons  and  your  daughters 
shall  prophesy,  your  old  men  shall  dream  dreams, 
your  young  men  shall  see  visions;  and  even  upon 
the  servants  and  the  handmaids  in  those  days 
will  I  pour  out  my  Spirit."  * 

*  Joel  2  :  28,  29. 


66  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

The  gift  of  the  Spirit  is  thus  conceived  as  the 
pecuUar  blessing  of  the  new  age;  and  it  is  only  a 
variant  of  this  idea  when  Isaiah  connects  it  more 
specifically  with  the  Messiah:  "The  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  shall  rest  upon  him,  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and 
understanding,  the  spirit  of  counsel  and  might, 
the  spirit  of  knowledge  and  of  fear  of  the  Lord."* 
In  the  figure  of  the  Messiah  the  future  community 
is  summed  up  and  personified.  He  receives  the 
gift  that  through  him  it  may  become  the  abiding 
possession  of  the  people  whom  he  governs.  Their 
whole  life,  under  the  direction  of  the  Messiah, 
will  be  controlled  and  illuminated  by  the  Spirit 
of  God. 

In  the  Old  Testament,  therefore,  we  have  to 
do  with  two  conceptions:  a  more  general  and  a 
more  definite  one.  On  the  one  hand,  the  Spirit 
is  the  divine  as  contrasted  with  mere  natural 
power,  and  its  action  is  perceived  in  all  that  is 
inexplicable  by  ordinary  law.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  is  the  divine  power  which  is  shaping  the  des- 
tinies of  Israel,  and  which  will  fully  manifest 
itself  in  the  future  elect  community.  In  that 
coming  reign  of  God  what  is  now  exceptional  will 
be  the  normal  order.  Israel  will  enter  on  its  new 
career  as  a  holy  people  and  will  serve  God  per- 
fectly in  the  power  of  his  Spirit. 

It  has  often  been  remarked  as  strange  that  the 
conception  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  so  prominent 
*  Isaiah  11  :  2. 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  67 

in  the  Old  Testament  and  which  was  again  to 
occupy  so  large  a  place  in  early  Christian  thought, 
should  scarcely  appear  at  all  in  our  Lord's  own 
teaching.  From  this  it  has  been  inferred  that  the 
church  came  by  its  doctrine  indirectly — borrow- 
ing perhaps  from  the  current  Jewish  theology  or 
perhaps  from  the  kindred  ideas  of  certain  hea- 
then cults.  The  silence  of  Jesus  on  the  work  of 
the  Spirit  seems  to  have  perplexed  the  Gospel 
writers  themselves.  They  find  the  explanation 
of  it  in  the  theory  that  in  our  Lord's  own  life- 
time the  Spirit  was  concentrated  in  himself, 
being  united  with  him  either  from  his  birth  or 
from  the  moment  of  his  baptism.  After  his 
death,  according  to  this  theory,  it  was  detached 
from  his  own  personality,  and  was  bequeathed  by 
him  to  the  church  at  large. 

Now,  if  the  idea  of  the  Spirit  was  indeed  foreign 
to  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  the  emphasis  which  was 
afterward  laid  upon  it  would  present  an  almost 
insoluble  problem.  We  should  have  to  conclude 
that  from  the  very  outset  an  alien  element  of  far- 
reaching  importance  was  added  to  the  thought  of 
Jesus.  But  when  we  look  more  closely  we  become 
aware  that  the  conception  is  everywhere  present 
in  his  own  teaching,  although  it  is  implied  rather 
than  directly  expressed. 

We  may  turn,  in  this  connection,  to  one  of  the 
few  passages  in  which  he  makes  explicit  mention 
of  the  Spirit  and  which  is  fully  attested  by  all 


68  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

the  Synoptic  writers.  The  passage  in  question 
is  that  in  which  he  rebukes  his  enemies,  who 
had  attributed  his  wonder-working  powers  to  the 
agency  of  Satan.  After  showing  the  perversity 
of  this  charge  he  argues,  "If  I  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  cast  out  devils,  then  is  the  kingdom  of  God 
come  unto  you";  and  the  words  are  immediately 
followed  by  his  denunciation  of  blasphemy  against 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Many  exegetical  details  in  the 
passage  are  obscure,  but  its  general  meaning 
admits  of  little  doubt.  In  his  ability  to  work 
miracles,  Jesus  perceives  the  clear  sign  that  the 
kingdom  is  at  hand.  His  enemies  in  their  wilful 
blindness  had  accused  him  of  traffic  with  Satan — 
failing  to  discern  that  operation  of  the  Spirit 
which  was  to  manifest  itself  in  the  new  age.  For 
this  utter  want  of  sympathy  with  the  divine 
action,  this  incapacity  to  recognise  it  when  it 
was  most  evident,  there  could  be  no  forgiveness. 
Jesus,  therefore,  presupposes  the  Old  Testa- 
ment conception.  To  him,  also,  the  Spirit  is  a 
power  which  reveals  itself  in  supernatural  action, 
and  he  looks  forward  to  the  new  age  for  its  larger 
manifestation.  His  miracles  are  evidence  to  him 
that  the  kingdom  is  at  hand,  for  they  are  effected 
by  that  power  which  belongs  to  the  kingdom  and 
which  is  now  breaking  in  upon  the  present  order. 
This,  it  is  necessary  to  observe,  was  the  real  sig- 
nificance which  Jesus  attached  to  his  miracles. 
He  did  not  regard  them  as  works  peculiar  to  him- 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  69 

self  and  as  marking  out  his  personal  dignity  and 
authority;  for  he  insisted  that  the  disciples,  also, 
if  they  had  faith  in  God,  might  exercise  a  similar 
power.  He  pointed  to  them,  rather,  as  the  signs 
of  the  kingdom.  Miracles  were  now  possible  be- 
cause the  new  age  was  near  and  the  Spirit  was 
already  becoming  operative.  A  supernatural 
order  was  presently  to  set  in,  and  these  were  its 
premonitory  signs. 

When  we  take  account  of  this  side  of  Jesus' 
thinking  his  comparative  silence  on  the  work  of 
the  Spirit  is  not  diflScult  to  explain.  The  con- 
ception of  the  Spirit  was  covered  for  him  by  that 
of  the  kingdom.  As  he  thought  of  the  new  age 
about  to  dawn  he  took  for  granted  the  super- 
natural power  which  would  rule  in  it  and  which 
would  reveal  itself  in  the  new^  community.  From 
the  time  of  the  prophets  onward  the  coming  of 
the  kingdom  and  the  descent  of  the  Spirit  on 
God's  people  had  been  correlative  ideas;  and  Jesus 
did  not  think  it  necessary  to  enforce,  in  ex- 
plicit terms,  what  was  self-evident.  Whenever  he 
speaks  of  the  kingdom  he  presupposes  the  new 
and  higher  principle  which  will  take  possession  of 
men,  enabling  them  to  enter  into  God's  purposes 
and  to  rise  above  the  limitations  of  their  old 
nature.  Without  the  gift  of  such  a  power  the 
new  life  which  he  anticipated  was  not  to  be 
realised.  In  this  sense  the  disciples  understood 
him.      When,  after   his   death,  they   constituted 


70  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

themselves  as  the  Ecclesia  to  which  the  kingdom 
had  been  promised,  they  looked  for  some  evident 
sign  that  the  Spirit  had,  indeed,  been  given  them. 
Only  thus  could  they  have  full  assurance  that 
they  had  received  their  part  in  the  new  age. 

The  conception  of  the  Spirit,  then,  as  we  find 
it  in  the  primitive  church,  was  taken  over  directly 
from  Jesus  himself.  Like  the  prophets,  he  thought 
of  a  future  in  which  all  God's  people  would  be 
brought  into  a  closer  relation  to  God  and  would 
be  endowed  with  higher  powers  and  deeper  insight 
into  the  divine  will.  He  chose  his  disciples  as  the 
heirs  of  the  future,  and  as  such  they  claimed  to 
participate  in  the  Spirit.  As  the  men  around  them 
belonged  to  the  present  world  and  were  bound 
down  to  the  conditions  of  the  natural  life,  so  they 
had  been  given  their  place  in  the  new,  divine 
order.  Paul,  in  his  development  of  the  idea  of 
the  Spirit,  maintained  that  through  faith  in 
Christ  a  man's  nature  was  radically  transformed. 
Hitherto  he  had  been  carnal,  a  mere  creature  of 
earth,  devoid  of  all  capacity  for  the  higher  life; 
but  now  he  became  a  "  spiritual  man, "  renewed  in 
his  whole  being  and  destined  to  immortality 
through  the  entrance  into  him  of  a  divine  prin- 
ciple. How  far  this  doctrine  was  elaborated  by 
Paul  himself  we  cannot  say;  but,  at  all  events,  it 
was  implicit  in  the  belief  which  was  held  from 
the  very  beginning.     The  church  regarded  itself 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  71 

as  in  a  literal  sense  a  supernatural  community. 
In  virtue  of  their  possession  of  the  Spirit,  the  be- 
lievers in  Christ  had  undergone  a  change  and  were 
subject  to  conditions  that  were  not  of  this  world. 
At  this  point,  however,  we  are  met  with  a  dif- 
ficulty which  might  seem  almost  to  suggest  an 
alien  influence  working  on  the  mind  of  the  church. 
Jesus,  as  we  have  seen,  connected  the  Spirit,  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  with  his  miracles.  In  those 
marvellous  works  he  saw  an  irruption  into  the 
present  of  that  higher  order  which  would  be 
realised  in  the  future,  and  he  declared  that  his 
disciples  also  might  share  in  the  miraculous  gift. 
But  when  we  turn  to  the  life  of  the  primitive 
church  we  no  longer  find  the  Spirit  associated 
with  miracles.  The  evidence  of  its  presence 
is  discovered  rather  in  the  strange  phenomena 
that  signalised  Christian  worship,  and  more  espe- 
cially in  the  Glossolalia  or  speaking  with  tongues. 
But  while  miracles  have  now  a  less  conspicuous 
place,  it  must  be  remarked  that  the  idea  of  miracle 
is  still  the  underlying  one  wherever  the  work  of 
the  Spirit  is  in  question.  It  is  assumed  that  the 
one  characteristic  of  all  spiritual  action  is  power; 
that  is,  an  energy  which  cannot  be  explained  from 
merely  natural  law.  When  Paul  undertakes  to 
test  the  genuineness  of  those  who  pretend  to  a 
larger  measure  of  the  Spirit  he  says  that  he  will 
look  solely  to  their  "power";  "for  the  kingdom 
of  God  is  not  with  word  but  w4th  power."     His 


72  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

meaning  is  that  the  Spirit  which  is  given  to  the 
children  of  the  new  age  is,  above  all,  dynamic 
in  its  nature.  Those  who  possess  it  grow  capable 
of  varied  activities  that  seem  quite  beyond  the 
range  of  ordinary  human  effort.  The  "spiritual 
gifts,"  when  we  examine  them,  all  run  back  to 
this  fundamental  idea.  In  their  different  ways 
they  are  the  manifestations  of  a  higher  mode  of 
action,  and  can  only  be  accounted  for  on  the 
hypothesis  that  a  divine  power  has  now  found 
entrance  into  the  habitual  order  of  the  world. 
The  thought  is  expressed  more  than  once  in  the 
New  Testament  that  the  miracles  of  Jesus  had 
been  only  the  beginning  of  a  miraculous  history. 
"The  works  that  I  do  shall  they  do  also,  and 
greater  works  shall  they  do  because  I  go  to  the 
Father"  (John  14  :  12).  And  this,  we  can  hardly 
doubt,  was  the  accepted  belief  of  the  early  church. 
Our  Lord's  miracles  were  handed  down  in  the 
Gospel  tradition  not  because  they  were  his  but 
because  they  were  typical  and  prophetic  of  the 
new  era  which  they  had  inaugurated.  The  char- 
ismatic gifts,  the  stronger  capacity  for  labour 
and  suffering,  the  moral  achievements  of  the 
Christian  life,  all  had  their  source  in  that  Spirit 
of  power  which  had  first  revealed  itself  in  the 
works  of  Jesus. 

It  is  true,  nevertheless,  that  the  Spirit  was 
chiefly  identified  not  with  miracles,  in  the  strict 
sense,    but    with    those    ecstatic    phenomena    of 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  73 

which  Glossolalia  was  the  most  remarkable. 
The  real  nature  of  this  spiritual  gift  can  be 
gathered  with  sufficient  certainty  from  Paul's 
account  of  it  in  I  Corinthians,  which  enables  us 
to  correlate  it  with  the  similar  phenomena  which 
have  appeared  from  time  to  time  in  religious 
history  and  have  not  been  unknown  even  in  our 
own  days.  Indeed,  the  records  of  the  Irvingite 
movement,  the  Camisard  rising  at  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  the  Welsh  revival  of  a  few 
years  ago  afford  us  the  best  commentary  on  this 
chapter  in  the  life  of  the  primitive  church.*  The 
"speaking  with  tongues"  seems  to  have  consisted 
in  the  outpouring  of  broken  words  and  inarticu- 
late sounds  under  the  influence  of  uncontrollable 
feeling.  Stirred  to  his  inmost  soul  by  new  aspi- 
rations, longings,  intuitions  which  craved  to  be 
expressed  and  for  which  he  could  find  no  lan- 
guage, the  worshipper  was  thrown  back  on  those 
unintelligible  cries.  He  was  like  a  child  who  has 
not  yet  acquired  words  for  the  struggling  thoughts 
and  emotions  which  overmaster  him.  We  can 
well  understand  how  in  that  initial  period  of 
surging  religious  life,  when  the  mighty  truths  of 
Christianity  were  breaking  on  men's  minds  for 
the  first  time,  a  manifestation  of  this  kind  was 
inevitable.      Christian    devotion    had    not    yet 

*  A  psychological  analysis,  in  the  Hght  of  kindred  phe- 
nomena, has  been  attempted  in  two  very  able  recent  works: 
Mosiman,  "Das  Zungenreden " ;  Lombard,  "La  Glossolalie." 


74  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

formed  for  itself  a  language,  and  the  new  enthu- 
siasm had  to  find  relief  in  those  improvised  modes 
of  utterance.  Such,  then,  was  the  "speaking 
with  tongues,"  and  this  name  applied  to  it  is 
highly  significant.  Several  explanations  of  it 
have  been  suggested,  but  it  is  almost  certain  that 
we  have  the  real  clew  to  its  meaning  in  Paul's  own 
words:  "Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men 
and  of  angels."  Paul  is  here  contrasting  ordinary 
human  eloquence  with  the  mysterious  speech 
which  came  of  its  own  accord  in  Christian  wor- 
ship. This  Glossolalia  he  identifies — and  the 
theory  was  evidently  current  in  the  church — with 
the  language  of  the  angels.  Under  the  influence 
of  the  Spirit  men  offered  praise  to  God  in  a  super- 
natural tongue,  similar  to  that  with  which  he 
was  worshipped  in  heaven. 

Why,  then,  was  the  Spirit  supposed  to  manifest 
itself  most  of  all  in  this  peculiar  phenomenon? 
The  answer  to  this  question  is  probably  to  be 
sought  in  the  actual  sequence  of  events.  Believ- 
ing themselves  to  be  the  community  of  the  king- 
dom, the  disciples  w^ere  seeking  for  some  sign 
which  would  make  it  evident  that  the  powers  of 
the  age  to  come  had  been  imparted  to  them,  and 
on  one  memorable  occasion  while  they  were  met 
for  prayer  the  Glossolalia  suddenly  broke  out.  It 
was  something  wholly  new  and  inexplicable,  and 
they  welcomed  it  as  the  sign  they  had  been  wait- 
ing for.     Henceforth  they  regarded  this  as  the 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  75 

typical  manifestation  of  the  Spirit,  all  the  more 
so  as  the  experience  was  found  to  repeat  itself  in 
all  the  Christian  societies.  The  belief  that  the 
Spirit  was  operative  in  the  new  gift  seemed  to  be 
confirmed  by  prophecies  of  scripture,  especially 
by  that  striking  passage  of  Joel  which  is  cited 
in  Peter's  speech  at  Pentecost.  But  the  appeal 
to  scripture,  here  as  elsewhere,  was  doubtless 
an  afterthought.  The  Glossolalia  impressed  the 
mind  of  the  church  not  because  it  seemed  to  cor- 
respond with  the  signs  foretold  by  Joel  but  be- 
cause it  was  itself  so  novel  and  extraordinary. 
It  could  only  be  explained  on  the  ground  that  a 
divine  power  had  now  been  communicated,  a 
power  which  could  be  no  other  than  the  Spirit. 

The  speaking  with  tongues  was  the  most  strik- 
ing of  the  charismatic  gifts,  and  was  apparently 
the  first  to  manifest  itself  in  a  signal  fashion.  But 
when  it  was  once  recognised  as  the  work  of  the 
Spirit  it  was  found  to  be  merely  the  index  of  a 
new  power  which  was  now  active  in  the  com- 
munity, and  which  was  capable  of  expression  in 
many  different  forms.  Paul  enumerates  a  vari- 
ety of  '* gifts" — faith,  miracles,  healings,  prophecy, 
helps,  and  administrations — all  of  which  are  the 
acknowledged  fruits  of  the  Spirit.  Though  it  is 
one  it  is  manifold  in  its  activity  and  is  the  mould- 
ing principle  of  the  Christian  life  in  all  its  aspects. 
Not  only  the  charismatic  gifts  but  the  abiding 
virtues  of  faith,  hope,  love  are  the  outflow  of 


76  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

that  Spirit  which  is  now  the  possession  of  the 
church.  This  development  of  the  conception  may 
be  attributed  in  large  measure  to  Paul  himself, 
who  discovered  the  far-reaching  possibilities  of 
the  early  theory.  The  Spirit  which  was  at  first 
associated  only  with  strange,  unaccountable 
phenomena  became  in  his  view  a  moral  and  re- 
ligious power  consistently  active  in  the  Chris- 
tian life.  But  the  idea  worked  out  by  Paul  was 
implicitly  present  from  the  beginning.  The 
church,  as  the  community  of  the  new  age,  claimed 
to  be  governed  by  the  Spirit — the  principle  of  the 
new  supernatural  order.  This  principle  was  sup- 
posed to  manifest  itself  in  certain  specified  modes 
of  action  peculiarly  impressive  in  their  nature; 
but  in  the  last  resort  it  underlay  and  animated 
the  whole  life  of  the  church. 

We  here  arrive  at  a  question  of  primary  im- 
portance, which  requires  to  be  answered  before 
we  can  rightly  understand  the  New  Testament 
doctrine  either  in  its  earlier  or  its  later  phases. 
Much  is  told  us  of  the  working  of  the  Spirit  in 
individual  believers.  It  was  recognised  that  the 
divine  power  laid  hold  on  the  varied  aptitudes 
of  men,  purifying  and  enhancing  them  and  ap- 
plying them  to  their  proper  service  in  the  com- 
mon cause.  We  hear  of  men  who  were  "full  of 
the  Spirit"  as  distinguished  from  ordinary  mem- 
bers on  whom  the  grace  had  been  bestowed  in 
inferior   measure.      Nevertheless,  it   seems  clear 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  77 

that  the  Spirit  was  considered,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, to  be  the  common  possession  of  the  church 
as  a  whole.    This,  indeed,  was  the  characteristic  of 
the  church— that  it  was  the  spiritual  community. 
Formerly,  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  had  been  reserved 
for  favoured  individuals   and   granted   to   them 
only  at  rare  intervals;  the  new  Israel,  in  its  whole 
extent,  was  endued  with  the  Spirit.     Thus  the 
belief  was  maintained  from  the  outset  that  the 
individual  received  the  heavenly  gift  only  through 
incorporation  with  the  church.     By  the  rite  of 
baptism  he  was  assimilated  to  the  body  within 
which  the  Spirit  was  operative,  and  was  so  ren- 
dered capable  of  sharing  in  its  influence.     The 
various  endowments  of  which  we  hear  in  the  New 
Testament  have  all  some  relation  to  the  common 
life  of  the  church.     Although   exercised  by  in- 
dividuals, they   are   supposed  to  belong  to  the 
church  as  a  whole  and  to  work  together  for  its 
welfare  and  enrichment.    Paul's  discussion  of  the 
spiritual  gifts  in  I  Corinthians  may  be  said  to 
revolve  upon  this  idea.     He  holds  that  the  gifts 
are  a  common  possession.     Diverse  as  they  are, 
they  are  all  wrought  by  one  and  the  selfsame 
Spirit,  which  dwells  in  the  whole  Ecclesia,  though 
it  distributes  its  influence  among  the  several  mem- 
bers.     And   since   the    individual   possessors   of 
the  gifts  are  so  many  instruments  of  a  common 
Spirit,  they  ought  to  feel  that  rivalry  and  self- 
assertion  are  out  of  place.    They  are  like  parts  of 


78  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

the  body,  which  interact  spontaneously  with  each 
other  and  direct  their  varied  activities  to  the 
same  end,  in  virtue  of  the  one  principle  of  life, 
controlling  the  body  as  a  whole. 

The  difficulty  of  understanding  the  primitive 
age  arises  very  largely  from  our  failure  to  appre- 
ciate this  idea  of  a  community  governed  by  the 
Spirit.  We  read  back  into  the  early  history  our 
own  conception  of  the  church  as  a  normal  society 
and  forget  that  the  spiritual  idea  was  radical  and 
constitutive.  The  church  had  examples  before  it 
of  organised  societies — the  Roman  Empire,  the 
Jewish  theocracy,  the  various  sects  and  brother- 
hoods within  Judaism — and  by  all  of  these,  in 
course  of  time,  it  was  profoundly  influenced. 
But  its  original  endeavour  was  to  break  away  en- 
tirely from  such  models  and  to  stand  forth  as  the 
new  community,  ordered  solely  by  the  Spirit. 
There  was  no  set  ministry,  for  the  gifts  of  the 
Spirit  were  bestowed  on  all;  no  stated  mode  of 
worship,  for  the  Spirit  moved  as  it  listed  and  its 
impulses  must  not  be  quenched;  no  formal  scheme 
of  doctrine,  which  might  exclude  the  new  revela- 
tions imparted  from  time  to  time  by  the  Spirit. 
The  scattered  groups  of  Christians  were  not  con- 
federated by  any  outward  ties;  together  they 
made  up  the  church,  in  which  dwelt  the  one  Spirit, 
and  no  other  bond  of  union  was  deemed  neces- 
sary. Even  the  concerns  of  ordinary  life  were 
lifted  out  of  the  domain  of  mere  prudential  ar- 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  79 

rangement.  At  each  stage  of  his  missionary  jour- 
neys Paul  left  himself  to  the  direction  of  the  Spirit; 
and  some  of  his  most  momentous  decisions  were 
taken  with  no  clearly  defined  purpose,  on  the  im- 
pulse of  a  vision  or  a  prophetic  warning.  Thus 
in  the  whole  constitution  and  activity  of  the 
church,  effect  was  given  to  the  idea  of  *the  Spirit. 
As  other  societies  were  conformed  to  the  rules 
and  traditions  of  this  age,  the  community  of  the 
future  sought  to  yield  itself  without  reserve  to  the 
control  of  the  higher  power.  To  adhere  stead- 
fastly to  this  ideal  proved  in  the  course  of  time 
impossible.  As  the  church  grew  in  numbers  and 
enlarged  its  field  of  action,  it  was  compelled  to 
submit  to  some  form  of  organisation,  and  more 
and  more,  as  the  enthusiasm  of  the  first  age 
dwindled,  system  had  to  take  the  place  of  spon- 
taneity. Right  on  from  the  latter  part  of  the  first 
century  we  can  trace  the  phases  of  this  change, 
until  at  last  the  free  community  of  the  Spirit  be- 
came the  official  church,  with  its  dogmas  and  hier- 
archies. 

It  is  mainly  from  Paul  that  we  derive  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  earlier  conditions,  when  the  spiritual 
idea  was  still  operative;  and  even  the  statements 
of  Paul  are  not  fully  applicable  to  the  period 
before  him.  Allowance  must  be  made,  on  the  one 
hand,  for  his  own  broadening  and  deepening  of 
the  primitive  belief;  and,  on  the  other,  for  the  fact 
that   he   describes   the   action   of   the   Spirit   in 


80  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

churches  of  heathen  origin.  It  is  certain  that  in 
the  process  of  the  gentile  mission  Christianity 
was  profoundly  affected  by  the  contemporary 
pagan  religions,  and  this  influence  was  especially 
felt  in  connection  with  the  doctrine  of  the  Spirit. 
Ecstatic  phenomena  formed  a  regular  part  of 
many  heathen  cults,  and  the  ideas  involved  in 
them  were  readily  transferred  to  Christian  wor- 
ship. Paul  himself  draws  a  parallel  between  the 
Spirit  which  his  converts  had  received  as  Chris- 
tians and  that  which  had  formerly  impelled  them 
to  the  service  of  dumb  idols.*  From  this  it  has 
sometimes  been  inferred  that  the  spiritual  mani- 
festations were  chiefly  or  wholly  associated  with 
the  gentile  type  of  Christianity.  In  Judaism,  it 
is  urged,  there  was  nothing  that  corresponded 
with  these  phenomena,  and  they  could  only  have 
crept  in  from  the  heathen  religions  in  which  they 
had  long  been  familiar.  Such  reasoning,  however, 
fails  to  take  account  of  the  new  motives  and  forces 
which  were  born  with  Christianity  and  which 
made  it  from  the  first  essentially  different  from 
the  parent  religion.  Moreover,  we  have  to  reckon 
with  clear  evidence  that  already  in  the  earliest 
days  at  Jerusalem  the  phenomena  declared  them- 
selves. Apart  from  the  express  testimony  of 
Acts,  we  can  gather  from  Paul's  references  that 
the  spiritual  gifts  had  always  had  their  place  in 
Christian  experience.  He  assumes  as  fundamental 
*  I  Cor.  12  :  2. 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  81 

articles  of  belief  that  the  Spirit  is  bestowed  on  all 
Christians,  that  without  it  no  man  can  have  part 
in  Christ,  that  it  is  the  quickening  power  which 
has  its  issue  in  all  the  new  activities.  These  con- 
victions could  never  have  become  so  generally 
and  firmly  established  unless  they  had  been  held 
from  the  very  commencement. 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  highly  probable  that 
the  spiritual  idea  fell  into  abeyance  at  Jerusalem 
much  earlier  than  in  the  gentile  lands.  From  the 
glimpses  afforded  us  in  Acts  we  receive  the  im- 
pression that  the  Jerusalem  church,  even  in  the 
days  of  Paul,  was  becoming  rigid  and  formal  in 
its  character;  and  since  the  purpose  of  Luke  is  to 
magnify  the  mother  church,  his  unconscious  wit- 
ness to  its  decline  is  the  more  significant.  The 
change  may  be  attributed  to  various  causes  work- 
ing in  combination.  (1)  In  Jerusalem  Christian- 
ity had  always  before  it  the  spectacle  of  the  great 
Jewish  organisation,  and  was  led  to  assimilate 
itself  to  this  model.  Not  only  so,  but  constant 
intercourse  with  the  temple  and  the  scribal  schools 
tended  to  modify  its  beliefs  in  the  direction  of 
Judaism.  Those  elements  in  its  worship  and 
doctrine  which  were  most  distinctively  Christian 
were  apt  to  be  weakened  or  altogether  sup- 
pressed. (2)  Again,  the  presence  of  the  original 
disciples,  while  it  conferred  a  glory  on  the  cen- 
tral church,  must  have  brought  about  a  certain 
arrest  in  its  development.    Those  chief  Apostles, 


82  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

who  had  been  companions  of  the  Lord  himself, 
had  a  natural  right  to  leadership,  and  their  au- 
thority overbore  that  of  the  Spirit.  Of  this  we 
have  the  most  signal  example  in  the  history  of 
Paul,  whose  new  movement,  sanctioned,  as  he 
could  not  doubt,  by  the  will  of  the  Spirit,  was  yet 
obliged  to  justify  itself  before  the  tribunal  of  the 
Apostles.  We  are  not  directly  told  why  Paul  at 
last  abandoned  Syria  and  sought  new  fields  of 
labour  in  distant  lands,  but  it  may  be  surmised 
that  one  of  his  compelling  motives  was  to  escape 
altogether  from  the  Jerusalem  sphere  of  influ- 
ence. Only  thus  could  he  secure  full  liberty  for  the 
exercise  of  his  spiritual  gift.  There  was  genuine 
meaning  in  Paul's  contention  that  he,  even  more 
than  Peter  and  the  other  Apostles,  was  the  cham- 
pion of  the  original  Christian  tradition.  The 
church  had  come  into  being  as  a  spiritual  com- 
munity, but  at  Jerusalem  it  had  half  forgotten  its 
true  character  and  had  put  outward  authority  in 
the  place  of  the  Spirit.  (3)  Once  more,  the  very 
fact  that  the  church  at  Jerusalem  occupied  the 
foremost  position  served  to  limit  its  free  activity. 
The  young  gentile  communities  could  allow  room 
for  the  impulses  of  the  Spirit — yielding  to  them 
in  many  cases  rashly  and  mistakenly,  but  at 
least  preserving  the  Christian  tradition  of  free- 
dom. The  mother  church  was  weighed  down  by 
the  responsibility  that  rested  on  it.  It  was  con- 
scious that  all  the  churches  looked  to  it  for  guid- 


THE  GIFT  OF  THE  SPIRIT  83 

ance  and  example,  and  that  it  must  sustain  the 
dignity  of  Christianity  before  the  world.  Under 
these  conditions  the  old  spontaneity  was  no  longer 
possible,  and  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit  were  with- 
drawn. 

But  the  later  church  at  Jerusalem  is  not  to  be 
confounded  with  that  which  arose  in  the  first 
days.  Those  earliest  believers  were  lifted  above 
the  world  of  the  present  and  felt  that  they  bore 
their  part  in  a  supernatural  order.  They  con- 
stituted the  new  community,  in  which  the  Spirit 
moved  like  a  mighty  rushing  wind.  It  was  in 
this  period  that  the  Christian  beliefs  and  insti- 
tutions had  their  origin;  and  they  never  entirely 
lost  the  distinctive  form  which  was  then  impressed 
on  them.  We  cannot  understand  their  develop- 
ment in  the  later  history  until  we  trace  them  back 
to  that  first  age,  when  they  issued  from  a  living 
experience  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 


LECTURE  IV 

JESUS   AS    LORD 

It  has  been  maintained,  in  the  previous  lec- 
tures, that  the  church  was  the  outcome  of  Jesus' 
proclamation  of  the  kingdom.  He  had  foretold 
the  imminent  approach  of  the  new  age  and 
chosen  his  disciples  to  be  the  nucleus  of  the  holy 
community  that  should  possess  it.  They  were 
assured  by  their  visions  of  the  risen  Christ  that 
his  promises  were  on  the  way  to  fulfilment;  and 
in  the  strange  phenomena  which  began  to  mani- 
fest themselves  in  the  daily  meetings  they  per- 
ceived the  action  of  the  Spirit.  The  power  char- 
acteristic of  that  new  age  on  which  they  were 
about  to  enter  was  already  w^orking  in  the  chosen 
people  of  God. 

In  this  account  of  the  beginning  of  the  church 
there  has  been  little  reference  to  what  we  are 
accustomed  to  consider  the  one  decisive  factor. 
Did  not  the  whole  movement  originate  in  a  per- 
sonal devotion  to  Jesus?  By  the  marvellous 
experiences  which  convinced  them  that  he  had 
risen,  the  disciples  had  attained  to  an  absolute 
faith  in  his  Messiahship.  He  had  been  unjustly 
condemned,  and  on  them,  as  his  followers,  there 

84 


JESUS  AS  LORD  85 

devolved  the  great  task  of  vindicating  him  and 
presenting  him  in  his  true  character  to  an  unbe- 
Heving  world.  Even  his  work  and  message  were 
half  forgotten  in  the  absorbing  interest  that  now 
centred  on  his  person,  and  the  whole  faith  of  the 
church  found  utterance  in  the  brief  formula  of 
confession:   *' Jesus  is  Lord." 

It  is  from  this  point  of  view  that  the  history  of 
the  first  age  is  usually  presented,  and  in  one  sense 
we  have  no  choice  but  to  accept  it.  Faith  in 
Jesus  was  the  ultimate  spring  of  the  new  move- 
ment. All  the  hopes  which  now  filled  the  hearts 
of  his  disciples  were  awakened  by  the  belief  that 
he  was  the  Messiah  and  by  the  knowledge  of 
him  which  had  made  that  belief  possible.  Yet  it 
does  not  appear  that  the  immediate  interest  of 
the  primitive  church  was  in  the  person  of  Jesus. 
The  attempt  to  discover  the  source  of  our  re- 
ligion in  the  loyalty  of  the  disciples  and  their 
anxiety  to  vindicate  the  claims  of  their  beloved 
Master  has  in  two  ways  proved  seriously  mis- 
leading: (1)  It  has  concealed  the  relation  be- 
tween the  teaching  of  Jesus  and  that  of  the  early 
church.  He  himself,  it  is  affirmed,  was  wholly 
concerned  with  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom,  while 
the  disciples  turned  from  his  message  to  himself. 
In  this  manner  his  cause  took  a  fresh  direction 
after  his  death.  The  truths  insisted  on  by  Jesus 
fell  largely  out  of  sight;  while  he,  in  his  own  per- 
son, became  the  one  object  of  faith.    Out  of  this 


86  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

estimate  of  what  he  had  been  and  done  his  fol- 
lowers evolved  a  profound  theology,  which  was 
not,  however,  the  theology  of  Jesus.  (2)  It  has 
unduly  limited  our  conception  of  the  aims  and 
character  of  the  church.  We  assume  that  at  the 
outset  it  was  wholly  occupied  with  the  defence  of 
Jesus'  Messiahship.  In  their  general  religious  out- 
look the  disciples,  as  we  conceive  them,  were 
hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  the  body  of  their 
countrymen,  and  in  one  point  only  did  they  hold 
an  independent  position.  The  Messiah,  for  them, 
had  already  appeared  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  From 
this  rudimentary  belief  historians  have  tried  to 
deduce  the  whole  wealth  of  later  Christianity, 
but  the  effort  is  a  hopeless  one.  There  must  have 
been  some  broader  basis  to  allow  for  the  rearing 
of  such  a  superstructure. 

So  far,  indeed,  from  providing  the  starting- 
point,  the  mood  of  personal  devotion  to  Jesus 
seems  to  have  arisen  as  a  later  stage  in  Christian 
development.  Strangely  enough,  it  manifests  it- 
self first  in  Paul,  who  did  not  belong  to  the  circle 
of  immediate  disciples;  and  it  may  be  that  his 
attitude  was  due,  in  some  measure,  to  this  very 
fact.  Paul  had  not  listened  directly  to  the  teach- 
ing of  Jesus  and  could  not  share  in  the  hopes  and 
enthusiasms  which  he  had  communicated  to  his 
personal  followers.  From  the  first  his  mind  had 
been  concentrated  on  Jesus  himself — on  his  risen 
life,  on  his  sacrifice  and  the  divine  love  of  which 


JESUS  AS  LORD  87 

it  was  the  pledge  and  evidence.  To  the  disciples, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  person  of  Jesus  was  asso- 
ciated with  his  message.  Their  belief  in  the  com- 
ing of  the  kingdom  had  preceded  their  knowledge 
of  his  Messiahship,  and  it  continued  to  occupy 
the  foremost  place.  The  faith  in  Jesus,  so  far 
from  absorbing  or  supplanting,  served  only  to 
reinforce  it.  That  this  was  the  attitude  of  the 
disciples  we  can  gather  from  the  speeches  of 
Peter,  in  which  Luke  has  reproduced  for  us  the 
substance  of  the  earliest  Christian  preaching.  It 
is  true  that  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus  is  the  cen- 
tral theme  of  these  discourses;  but  they  give  it 
prominence  in  order  to  bring  out  the  larger  issues 
involved  in  it.  Jesus  has  entered  on  his  Mes- 
sianic office;  therefore  the  kingdom  must  be  at 
hand,  and  God's  people  must  avail  themselves 
of  the  offered  redemption.  The  emphasis  is  laid 
not  so  much  on  the  person  of  Christ  as  on  the 
work  he  is  about  to  accomplish,  and  the  note  of 
pure  loyalty  and  devotion  is  almost  entirely  ab- 
sent. 

We  might  certainly  have  expected  that  in  those 
first  days,  when  the  impression  of  the  Master's 
life  was  still  fresh  on  the  minds  of  his  disciples, 
the  personal  element  in  their  faith  would  have 
expressed  itself  more  strongly.  But  the  apparent 
aloofness  is  not  difficult  to  understand  if  we  try 
to  realise  their  circumstances  and  outlook.  They 
believed  that  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  was  only 


88  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

a  matter  of  days  or  weeks,  and  their  thoughts 
were  directed  wholly  to  the  great  future  that  was 
so  near  at  hand.  Their  faith  in  Jesus  could  not 
be  separated  from  their  hope  of  that  future.  His 
death,  as  they  viewed  it,  was  simply  the  first 
episode  of  a  great  drama  still  in  process,  and  was 
presently  to  be  followed  by  a  glorious  return.  It 
was  not  till  a  later  time  that  the  attitude  to  Jesus 
became  one  of  personal  devotion.  As  the  king- 
dom delayed  its  coming  the  hopes  and  desires 
which  it  had  awakened  were  drawn  more  and  more 
to  the  Lord  himself.  The  meaning  of  his  life 
and  death,  the  divine  worth  of  his  personality 
were  discerned  more  clearly  as  the  perspective 
widened,  while  in  Christian  experience  his  in- 
ward and  abiding  presence  was  ever  more  in- 
tensely realised.  Other  influences,  likewise,  played 
their  part — the  mystical  sentiments  that  gathered 
around  the  Lord's  Supper,  the  ideas  that  crept 
in  from  gentile  forms  of  worship,  the  adoption 
by  Christian  thinkers  of  the  Logos  speculation. 
These  causes  all  combined  to  enhance  the  personal 
significance  of  Jesus  as  time  went  on,  until  in  the 
Fourth  Gospel  he  appears  as  the  one  object  of 
faith.  The  Christian  revelation  is  identified  with 
Christ  himself. 

In  the  earliest  days,  then,  the  belief  in  the 
kingdom  was  primary.  Jesus  had  impressed  on 
his  disciples  that  the  great  consummation  was  at 


JESUS  AS  LORD  89 

hand,  and  the  thought  now  uppermost  in  their 
minds  was  that  they  were  the  elect  community 
destined  to  inherit  the  new  age.  But  this  hope 
of  the  kingdom  had  become  essentially  different 
from  what  it  had  been  in  Jesus'  lifetime.  An 
absolute  guarantee  had  been  given  for  its  fulfil- 
ment; for  Jesus  was  now  the  Messiah.  The  death 
which,  according  to  his  teaching,  was  the  con- 
dition of  his  Messiahship  had  been  accomplished; 
and  his  resurrection  was  evidence,  beyond  the 
reach  of  doubt,  that  he  had  entered  on  his  supreme 
office.  Hence  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  was 
certain,  and  Jesus  himself,  in  his  Messianic  char- 
acter, would  preside  over  its  inauguration.  On 
the  one  event  of  the  Parousia,  the  return  in  glory 
of  the  Master  whom  they  had  known,  the  whole 
faith  of  the  disciples  was  centred.  To  this  ex- 
tent it  may  be  maintained  that  after  Jesus'  death 
his  own  person  became  the  chief  interest  in  Chris- 
tian thought.  The  expectation  of  the  kingdom 
was  now  bound  up  with  the  belief  in  his  Messiah- 
ship  and  expressed  itself  in  terms  of  it.  But  the 
wider  belief  was  the  primary  and  fundamental 
one.  The  disciples  clung  to  their  faith  in  Jesus 
and  waited  eagerly  for  his  return,  because  through 
him  they  would  possess  the  kingdom. 

We  have  now  to  consider  more  closely  what 
was  implied  in  that  Messianic  belief  on  which  the 
church  was  content  to  rest  its  entire  hope  for  the 
future.     One  aspect  of  it,  already  touched  upon, 


90  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

requires  at  the  outset  to  be  clearly  apprehended. 
The  belief  that  Jesus  was  the  Messiah  had  refer- 
ence not  to  the  life  which  he  had  lived  on  earth 
but  to  his  present  exalted  life.  In  his  resurrec- 
tion he  had  not  merely  risen  from  the  dead  but 
had  entered  on  a  higher  state  of  being,  as  the  Mes- 
siah appointed  by  God.  Paul  has  declared  in  a 
well-known  passage  that  he  concerned  himself  no 
longer  with  the  earthly  life  of  Jesus:  "  Yea,  though 
we  have  known  Christ  after  the  flesh,  yet  now 
henceforth  know  we  him  no  more''  (II  Cor.  5  : 
16).  This  saying  of  Paul  is  often  quoted  as  mark- 
ing the  contrast  between  himself  and  the  earlier 
disciples.  With  all  his  passionate  devotion  to 
Christ,  he  lacked  the  personal  knowledge  which 
had  been  vouchsafed  to  the  others  and  was  more 
than  half  conscious  how  much  he  had  lost.  But 
the  attitude  of  mind  which  is  expressed  in  the 
verse  was  not  peculiar  to  Paul.  We  find  it  re- 
flected in  all  the  writings  of  the  New  Testament, 
and  we  cannot  but  regard  it  as  the  common  at- 
titude of  the  primitive  church.  The  followers  of 
Jesus,  even  those  who  had  known  him  best,  en- 
deavoured to  think  of  him  not  as  he  had  been 
but  as  he  was  now.  His  life  on  earth  had  been 
only  preliminary  to  that  on  which  he  had  now 
entered  and  in  which  he  revealed  himself  in  his 
true  dignity  as  the  Messiah.  It  is  significant  that 
the  incidents  recorded  in  our  Gospels  are  almost 
exclusively  those  which  adumbrate,  in  some  man- 


JESUS  AS  LORD  91 

ner,  the  Messianic  vocation  of  Jesus;  and  the  in- 
ference has  been  drawn  from  this  that  the  Gospels 
were  mainly  intended  as  missionary  handbooks 
supplying  evidence  for  the  cardinal  topics  of  Chris- 
tian preaching.  But  undoubtedly  the  evangelists 
wrote,  in  the  first  instance,  for  the  church  and 
collected  those  reminiscences  of  Jesus'  life  which 
they  found  current  in  the  church  tradition.  If 
these  are  of  one  prevailing  type  we  must  dis- 
cover the  reason  in  this — that  faith  was  directed 
to  Jesus  as  the  Messiah.  The  events  even  of  his 
earthly  life  were  remembered  and  cherished  only 
as  they  seemed  to  throw  light  on  that  higher  activ- 
ity to  which  he  had  now  attained. 

At  the  same  time  we  must  not  conclude,  as 
some  have  done,  that  the  figure  of  Jesus  was 
merged  wholly  in  that  of  the  heavenly  Messiah, 
with  the  result  that  the  earthly  life  became  in- 
different to  faith.  On  the  contrary,  as  we  are 
reminded  by  the  very  existence  of  our  Gospel 
records,  the  memory  of  it  was  the  chief  treasure 
of  the  church  and  exercised  a  decisive  influence. 
(1)  In  the  firstlplace,  it  transformed  the  Messiah 
into  a  living  personaHty  endowed  with  attributes 
that  could  awaken  love  and  reverence  and  fidel- 
ity. It  may  be  true  that  in  the  early  Christology, 
especially  that  of  Paul,  the  Jewish  speculations  on 
the  Messiah  are  simply  transferred  to  the  exalted 
Jesus;*  but  the  abstract   Jewish  Messiah  could 

*  This  is  the  view  maintained  by  Wrede  C'Paulus")  and 
Bruckner  ("Die  Entstehung  der  PaiUinischen  Christologie")' 


92  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

never  have  become  the  object  of  a  religion.  Be- 
hind all  the  wrappings  which  were  borrowed  from 
theological  speculation  there  was  the  person  of 
Jesus  as  he  had  been  visibly  manifested  in  his 
grace  and  truth.  It  was  to  him  and  not  to  the 
ideal  figure  with  which  he  was  now  identified  that 
his  people  directed  their  faith.  (2)  Again,  the 
belief  in  the  Messiahship  had  its  ultimate  guar- 
antee in  the  historical  life.  While  they  were  still 
with  him,  and  knew  him  only  as  Master  and 
Teacher,  the  disciples  had  learned  to  surmise  the 
higher  dignity  of  Jesus  by  their  experience  of 
what  he  had  been  to  them.  Their  confidence  in 
the  resurrection  was  itself  grounded  in  this  ex- 
perience: "He  hath  loosed  the  bonds  of  death," 
says  Peter,  ''because  it  was  not  possible  that  he 
should  be  holden  of  it."  *  This  impression  which 
Jesus  had  made  on  those  who  had  known  his  fel- 
lowship was  the  underlying  security  for  all  his 
claims.  The  acceptance  of  him  as  Messiah  and 
viceregent  of  God  was  in  the  last  resort  a  personal 
homage  to  the  sovereignty  of  his  moral  nature. 
(3)  Once  more,  as  the  life  confirmed  the  belief  in 
the  Messiahship,  so  it  was  illuminated  by  it  and 
invested  with  a  new  significance.  Jesus  had  now 
exchanged  his  earlier  state  of  being  for  a  higher 
one;  yet  his  new  life  was  in  some  way  continuous 
with  that  which  he  had  lived  on  earth,  and  his 
will  as  it  now  was  had  been  revealed  in  his  former 
words  and  actions.  The  morality  of  the  church 
*  Acts  2  :  24. 


JESUS  AS  LORD  93 

thus  based  itself  on  the  character  and  example  of 
Jesus.  His  sayings  were  collected  and  grouped 
together  as  the  authoritative  standard  of  all  Chris- 
tian teaching. 

In  the  belief,  then,  that  Jesus  was  Messiah,  it 
was  implied  that  this  dignity  had  been  bestowed 
on  him  since  his  death  and  had  been  attested  by 
his  resurrection.  His  earthly  life,  while  it  still 
profoundly  influenced  all  Christian  thought,  was 
regarded  as  only  the  prelude  to  that  true  life  on 
which  he  had  now  entered.  But  the  behef  in 
Jesus'  Messiahship  was  itself  no  more  than  an 
aspect  of  the  whole  belief  of  the  church.  Perhaps 
the  ordinary  presentation  of  the  early  history  has 
nowhere  erred  more  grievously  than  in  taking  for 
granted  that  faith  in  the  Messiahship  was  a  bare 
dogma  which  had  no  necessary  connection  with 
anything  else.  Even  if  we  admit  that  the  primi- 
tive belief  consisted  wholly  in  the  confession 
"Jesus  is  the  Messiah,"  we  have  to  remember 
what  was  involved  in  that  confession.  To  the 
Jewish  mind  the  title  *' Messiah"  did  not  signify 
a  personal  dignity  but  an  office  and  an  official 
work.  The  Messiah  was  the  representative  of 
God  in  the  establishment  of  the  kingdom;  and  so 
entirely  did  the  emphasis  fall  upon  his  work  that 
in  many  of  the  apocalyptic  visions  of  the  future 
he  does  not  appear  at  all  as  a  personal  figure. 
The  hope  of  Israel  was  for  the  coming  of  the  king- 
dom, and  the  Messiah,  even  when  he  is  made 


94  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

most  conspicuous,  is  nothing  but  the  instrument 
through  which  this  hope  is  to  be  fulfilled.  This  is 
well  illustrated  by  the  fragment  preserved  to  us  in 
the  Gospels  from  the  preaching  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist. John's  mind,  it  is  evident,  was  absorbed  by 
the  one  thought  that  the  kingdom  was  near  at 
hand,  but  in  order  to  press  home  this  thought  he 
embodies  it  in  a  picture  of  the  Messiah,  who  is  al- 
ready on  his  way  to  execute  the  divine  judgment. 
To  the  primitive  disciples  the  idea  was  no  longer 
vague  and  abstract,  as  in  earlier  Jewish  thought, 
but  it  was  still  associated  with  the  traditional 
hopes.  The  Messiah  stood  for  the  kingdom,  and 
the  affirmation  that  he  had  appeared  in  Jesus 
gathered  up  in  one  brief  statement  a  whole  clus- 
ter of  beliefs.  It  meant,  in  the  first  place,  that 
the  kingdom  would  presently  become  a  reality; 
for  the  divine  agent  who  would  establish  it  had 
now  been  appointed.  It  meant,  further,  that 
the  heirs  of  the  kingdom  would  be  those  who 
stood  in  a  given  relation  to  Jesus.  As  Messiah 
he  would  designate  the  members  of  the  new 
community,  and  none  could  enter  into  it  except 
through  him.  Once  more  the  belief  that  he  was 
Messiah  impressed  a  new  meaning  on  all  the  con- 
ceptions which  had  hitherto  attached  themselves 
to  the  hope  of  Israel.  His  teaching  was  now 
authoritative,  and  in  the  light  of  it  the  whole  re- 
ligious attitude  of  men  had  to  be  radically  changed. 
Thus  the  confession  of  Jesus  as  Messiah,  so  far 


JESUS  AS  LORD  95 

from  standing  by  itself  as  an  unrelated  doctrine, 
derived  all  its  meaning  from  the  ideas  connoted 
by  it.  From  the  beginning  it  was  the  symbol 
of  a  new  faith  and  of  a  new  outlook  on  the 
world. 

The  disciples  believed,  then,  that  Jesus  had 
been  exalted  to  the  office  of  Messiah  and  that  he 
would  shortly  return  to  fulfil  his  appointed  work. 
But  at  a  very  early  time  the  designation  "Mes- 
siah" gave  place  to  another,  in  which  the  faith 
of  the  church  expressed  itself  even  more  clearly 
and  definitely.  Already  in  the  days  of  Paul  the 
confession  which  marked  out  the  Christian  be- 
liever, and  which  in  all  probabiHty  was  solemnly 
uttered  in  the  rite  of  baptism,  was  embodied  in  the 
words  "Jesus  is  Lord."  What  is  the  meaning  of 
this  title,  and  how  did  it  come  to  be  applied  to 
Jesus  in  preference  to  the  title  of  Messiah?  We 
have  here  a  question  the  importance  of  which  has 
only  been  recognised  in  recent  years  and  which 
takes  us  at  once  to  the  very  heart  of  primitive 
Christian  belief. 

Within  the  last  few  years  attention  has  been 
directed  to  the  striking  parallels  afforded  by  the 
contemporary  cults.  Adonis,  Serapis,  Mithra 
were  each  known  to  their  worshippers  under  the 
title  of  KvpLo^i,  "the  Lord";  and  we  have  begun 
to  learn  from  the  Egyptian  papyri  how  closely 
analogous  to  Christian  usage  were  the  various  ap- 


96  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

plications  of  the  name.  "There  are  gods  many 
and  lords  many,"  says  Paul,  suggesting  by  his 
words  a  distinction  which  would  be  familiar  to 
his  readers.  The  "gods"  were  the  acknowledged 
members  of  the  Pantheon,  while  the  "lords" 
were  the  new  divinities  introduced  for  the  most 
part  from  the  East  and  worshipped  by  special 
groups  of  devotees.  One  peculiar  use  of  the  term 
Kvpto^  was  in  connection  with  the  Csesar  worship 
which  from  the  time  of  Nero  onward  played  such 
an  important  part  in  the  religious  observances 
of  the  age.  The  deified  emperor  could  not  be  re- 
garded as  a  god  in  the  strict  sense,  and  took  rank 
with  the  divinities  who  stood  outside  of  the  old 
national  religions.  In  subapostolic  times  the  rec- 
ognition of  Jesus  as  Lord  acquired  a  fresh  sig- 
nificance from  the  Christian  aversion  to  Csesar 
worship;  and  it  may  be  that  this  contrast  is  oc- 
casionally hinted  at  in  the  New  Testament. 
For  example,  when  Paul  declares  that  Jesus  has 
the  "name  which  is  above  every  name"  he  may 
be  thinking  of  the  usurpation  by  an  earthly  king 
of  the  supreme  title  of  Lord,  which  is  due  to 
Christ  alone.  But  the  sharp  conflict  with  Csesar 
worship  belongs  to  a  later  phase  of  the  history, 
and  may  be  left  out  of  account  in  the  investiga- 
tion of  purely  New  Testament  ideas. 

The  application  to  Jesus  of  a  name  already  as- 
signed in  current  usage  to  the  Oriental  divinities 
is  certainly  very  striking;  all  the  more  so  as  the 


JESUS  AS  LORD  97 

cults  in  question  all  centred  in  the  idea  of  re- 
demption. The  worshipper  of  Attis  or  Osiris,  in 
speaking  of  his  "lord/'  had  in  mind  the  concep- 
tion of  a  redeemer,  no  less  than  the  Christian 
when  he  ascribed  the  same  name  to  Jesus.  We 
cannot  wonder  that  not  a  few  modern  scholars 
have  been  tempted  to  explain  the  name  as  one  of 
the  terms  that  were  adopted  by  the  new  religion 
from  the  prevailing  cults  to  which  it  bore  a  super- 
ficial resemblance.  If  this  could  be  proved,  our 
estimate  of  early  Christianity  would  require  in 
some  important  respects  to  be  modified. 

But  against  this  view  there  is  one  argument 
that  seems  to  be  practically  decisive.  It  can  be 
gathered  from  the  evidence  that  the  name  was 
employed  in  reference  to  Jesus  at  a  date  so  early 
that  it  cannot  have  been  borrowed  from  any  alien 
religion.  (1)  Luke  apparently  knows  of  no  time 
when  the  church  did  not  regard  Jesus  as  Kvpio<;, 
Already  in  Peter's  speech  at  Pentecost  we  have 
the  emphatic  statement,  "God  hath  made  him 
both  Lord  and  Christ" — which  implies  that  from 
the  beginning  the  idea  of  Messiahship  was  con- 
joined with  that  of  Lordship.  (2)  Paul  regularly 
speaks  of  "the  Lord"  or  "the  Lord  Jesus,"  and 
assumes  that  this  was  the  name  most  widely  cur- 
rent in  all  the  churches.  Especially  noteworthy 
are  those  passages  in  the  Epistles  where  the  name 
is  expressly  associated  with  the  common  tradition, 
e,  g.,  "I  have  received  from  the  Lord  that  which 


98  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

also  I  delivered  unto  you,  that  the  Lord  Jesus 
took  bread."  It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  Paul 
is  here  reproducing  the  language  of  those  earlier 
Apostles  from  whom  he  had  taken  over  the  broad 
outline  of  the  Christian  teaching.  To  them  Jesus 
was  "the  Lord,"  and  it  was  from  them  that  the 
name  was  transmitted  to  the  church  at  large. 
(3)  Several  expressions  in  the  New  Testament  are 
marked  by  their  Aramaic  form  as  terms  which 
had  come  down  from  the  original  worship  of  the 
church,  when  a  mission  outside  of  Palestine  had 
not  yet  been  thought  of.  Among  these  primitive 
expressions,  cherished  and  left  untranslated  be- 
cause they  preserved  a  link  with  the  earliest  days 
is  "Maranatha"— "the  Lord  cometh,"  or  "come, 
0  Lord."  This  prayer  or  promise  was  adopted 
as  the  Christian  watchword,  and  of  itself  is  suf- 
ficient evidence,  though  we  had  no  other,  of  the 
early  adoption  of  the  title  "Lord."  It  was  em- 
bodied in  a  phrase  which  had  acquired  a  ritual 
value  at  a  time  when  the  gentile  mission  was  just 
beginning.  (4)  Scarcely  less  decisive  is  the  other 
expression  several  times  used  by  Paul  with  a 
solemn  emphasis,  "Jesus  is  Lord."  It  is  evident 
that  he  intends  these  words  to  recall  a  formula 
well  known  to  all  Christians  as  the  summary  of 
their  belief,  and  the  formula,  we  may  be  almost 
certain,  was  that  of  the  confession  pronounced 
at  baptism.  On  such  an  occasion  and  for  such  a 
purpose  no  language  could  be  employed  which  had 


JESUS  AS  LORD  99 

not  been  consecrated  by  the  earliest  traditions 
of  the  church. 

We  can  have  little  hesitation,  therefore,  in  con- 
cluding that  the  name  "Lord"  as  applied  to  Jesus 
was  part  of  the  original  Christian  teaching.  Ideas 
derived  from  the  heathen  cults  may  have  gath- 
ered around  it  in  later  days;  indeed,  it  may  itself 
account  in  no  small  measure  for  the  entrance  of 
those  alien  influences  into  Christianity.  The  mis- 
sionaries proclaimed  Jesus  in  the  gentile  lands 
under  a  name  that  was  already  bestowed  on  cer- 
tain divinities;  and  in  this  way  a  confusion  would 
arise  in  the  minds  of  heathen  converts.  Elements 
that  belonged  to  the  service  of  the  other  "lords" 
would  find  their  way  imperceptibly  into  Christian 
worship.  This  much  may  be  granted,  but  if  we 
go  further  and  maintain  that  the  name  was 
actually  borrowed  from  paganism,  we  must  as- 
sume that  in  its  very  inception  the  church  was 
affected  by  foreign  influences.  Some  radical 
critics  have  not  shrunk  even  from  this  conclu- 
sion.* They  fall  back  on  a  theory  that  the  dis- 
trict of  Galilee  to  which  the  original  disciples  be- 
longed was  Hellenistic  as  much  as  Jewish,  and 
that  we  must  therefore  reckon  from  the  outset 
with  an  infusion  of  pagan  ideas.  A  theory  of 
this  kind  is  necessary  if  the  name  "Lord,"  which 
reaches  so  far  back  into  the  history,  is  to  be  traced 

*A  typical  writer  of  this  school  is  Maurenbrecher,  "Von 
Jerusalem  nach  Rom." 


100         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

to  a  pagan  origin;  but  it  hardly  requires  a  serious 
refutation.  The  disciples,  as  all  the  evidence 
proves,  were  entirely  Jewish  in  blood  and  train- 
ing and  sympathy,  and  before  we  are  driven  to  an 
alien  source  for  that  title  which  they  applied  to 
Christ  we  have  to  consider  whether  it  may  not 
be  explained  along  the  lines  of  native  Jewish 
thought. 

In  the  Old  Testament  "the  Lord'*  is  uniformly 
the  name  for  God,  and  it  may  appear  at  first 
sight  as  if  this  divine  name  were  simply  trans- 
ferred to  Jesus.  This  view  has  been  strongly 
held  by  some  writers,  who  adduce  in  proof  of  it 
a  number  of  scriptural  quotations  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament which  are  so  applied  as  to  identify  Jesus 
with  "the  Lord."  *  These  passages  are  certainly 
surprising  in  their  boldness;  but  we  can  draw  no 
other  inference  from  them  than  that  advantage 
was  taken,  for  the  purposes  of  Christian  teaching, 
of  the  ambiguous  meaning  of  the  word  /cvpio^. 
It  is  inconceivable  that  in  the  first  age,  when  the 
monotheistic  idea  was  still  maintained  in  all  its 
strictness,  Jesus  was  regarded  as  one  with  God. 

In  any  case,  the  transference  to  Jesus  of  the 
Old  Testament  title  does  not  necessarily  imply 
that  he  was  called  by  the  divine  name.  It  is 
well  known  that  through  motives  of  reverence, 
or  perhaps  of  superstition,  the  Jews  of  the  later 

*  Cf.  I  Cor.  1  :  31;  10  :  22;  II  Cor.  3  :  16;  8  :  21;  10  :  17; 
Phil.  2  :  10  J'.;  Eph.  4  :  8;  Heb.  1  :  10. 


JESUS  AS  LORD  101 

age  refrained  from  uttering  the  direct  name  of 
God,  and  substituted  for  it  another,  which  is 
rendered  in  the  Septuagint  by  KvpLo<;  and  in  our 
own  version  by  "the  Lord."  This  is  not  a  per- 
sonal name,  but  a  title  indicating  sovereignty, 
and  has  its  counterpart  in  the  term  "servant," 
which  is  used  of  the  worshipper.  It  expresses 
that  conception  of  a  divine  being  which  was  com- 
mon to  all  Oriental  religions  and  which  was  sug- 
gested by  the  prevailing  character  of  Oriental 
monarchy.  As  each  of  the  neighbouring  peoples 
had  its  national  divinity,  who  was  worshipped 
as  "Baal"  or  "Moloch,"  "master"  or  "king,"  so 
to  Israel  Jahveh  was  "the  Lord."  Here,  it  may 
be  observed  in  passing,  we  can  discover  the  true 
point  of  contact  between  the  Oriental  cults  and 
Christianity  in  the  employment  of  the  name 
Kvpio^.  Judaism  was  itself  an  Oriental  religion, 
and  from  time  immemorial  had  applied  to  God 
the  same  term  of  homage  as  was  customary  in 
those  new  faiths  which  were  now  invading  the 
Roman  Empire.  From  it  and  not  from  its  younger 
rivals  Christianity  adopted  the  term. 

In  the  Old  Testament  usage,  then,  "the  Lord" 
is  a  general  rather  than  a  proper  name.  It  did 
not  denote  God  in  his  unique  and  transcendent 
personality,  but  was  chosen  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  avoiding  such  a  presumptuous  reference. 
God  in  himself  was  unknowable,  unnamable;  and 
the  worshipper  was  content  to  speak  of  him  under 


102         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

a  title  that  served  only  to  mark  his  own  attitude 
of  absolute  submission.  God  was  "the  Lord"; 
he  himself  the  servant.  When  we  consider  it 
from  this  point  of  view  we  can  understand  how 
the  name  was  borrowed  from  the  Old  Testament 
and  transferred  to  Jesus.  There  was  no  thought 
of  identifying  Jesus  with  the  ineffable  God;  al- 
though it  may  be  granted  that  from  its  association 
with  the  idea  of  God  the  name  had  acquired  a 
peculiar  shade  of  meaning  and  implied  not  sub- 
mission merely  but  awe  and  worship.  But  in 
itself  it  was  only  an  abstract  title  denoting  king- 
ship and  authority,  and  this  limitation  of  its 
meaning  had  always  been  clearly  recognised. 
Jesus  had  now  become  King  of  his  people — stood 
over  against  them  in  such  a  relation  that  they 
were  conscious  of  his  right  to  their  utter  obedi- 
ence. He  was  "the  Lord"  and  they  his  servants 
or  "bond-slaves." 

The  name  may  possibly  have  connected  itself 
at  the  beginning  with  a  definite  aspect  of  the 
Messianic  belief.  According  to  a  Jewish  doctrine 
which  finds  expression  in  several  of  the  Apoca- 
lypses, the  new  age  was  to  be  ushered  in  by  a  reign 
of  the  Messiah.  For  a  given  period  he  would 
wield  authority  as  the  representative  of  God,  until 
his  work  was  completed  and  God  himself  would 
assume  the  sovereignty.  These  ideas  are  set 
forth  by  Paul  in  a  famiUar  passage  of  I  Corin- 
thians: "He  shall  reign  till  he  hath  put  all  things 


JESUS  AS  LORD  103 

under  his  feet;  then  he  shall  deliver  up  the  king- 
dom to  God  the  Father,  that  God  may  be  all  in 
all."  *  The  passage  is  soHtary  in  Paul's  writings, 
and  the  view  it  presents  is  out  of  harmony  with  his 
deeper  religious  instincts,  which  refuse  to  admit 
a  mere  transient  and  provisional  value  in  the  work 
of  Christ.  We  can  hardly  be  wrong  in  assuming 
that  here,  as  in  other  instances,  he  has  for- 
mally accepted  certain  traditional  elements  with- 
out any  attempt  to  reconcile  them  with  his  own 
characteristic  thought.  He  may  have  borrowed 
directly  from  Jewish  speculation,  but  more  prob- 
ably he  makes  room  for  a  conception  which  had 
already  estabHshed  itself  in  Christian  doctrine.  It 
reappears  in  the  book  of  Revelation,  where  the 
intermediate  reign  of  Christ  is  definitely  limited 
to  a  period  of  a  thousand  years.  The  name  KvpLO<;, 
then,  may  possibly  have  borne  some  reference  to 
this  peculiar  theory  of  a  Messianic  reign  which 
would  give  place,  in  the  end,  to  an  absolute  reign 
of  God.  By  and  by  would  come  the  great  con- 
summation, but  as  yet  it  was  the  opening  period 
of  the  new  age  in  which  the  Messiah  was  to  be 
recognised  as  Lord. 

The  title  of  Kvpio^  was  broadly  equivalent  to 
that  of  Messiah;  but  it  carried  with  it  a  more 
specific  meaning,  and  here  we  may  discern  the 
true  reason  for  its  adoption  by  the  primitive 
church.  It  was  ascribed  to  Jesus  not  only  in 
*  I  Cor.  15  :  28. 


104         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

his  capacity  of  Messiah  but  in  his  relation  to  his 
people.  "For  us/'  says  Paul,  "there  is  one  Lord, 
Jesus  Christ"  (I  Cor.  8:6).  In  the  old  order 
now  passing  away  there  were  many  sovereigns 
who  laid  claim  to  men's  obedience — earthly  kings 
and  potentates,  gods  many  and  lords  many.  But 
a  new  community  had  come  into  existence  cor- 
responding with  the  new  age,  and  the  only  head 
whom  it  acknowledged  was  Jesus  Christ.  By 
confessing  him  as  its  Lord  the  church  gave  ex- 
pression to  the  consciousness  of  its  unique  char- 
acter and  vocation.  It  declared  itself  to  be  the 
community  of  the  future,  chosen  by  Christ  and 
owing  its  allegiance  to  him  alone. 

A  twofold  reference  was  thus  involved  in  the 
designation  of  Jesus  as  Lord:  (1)  On  the  one 
hand,  there  was  the  conviction  that  he  had  now 
entered  on  the  full  prerogatives  of  his  Messianic 
office.  Formerly  he  had  been  Master  and  Teacher, 
now  he  had  commenced  his  reign.  It  is  true  that 
Paul,  in  several  of  his  allusions  to  Jesus'  earthly 
life,  speaks  of  him  as  "the  Lord,"  and  in  so  doing 
he  seems  to  be  following  the  uniform  practice  of 
the  church.*  Already,  on  the  night  on  which  he 
was  betrayed,  it  was  "the  Lord  Jesus"  who  in- 
stituted the  supper.  But  we  cannot  infer  from 
such  passages  that  Jesus  even  in  his  earthly  life 

*  Cf.  the  designation  of  James  as  "the  Lord's  brother" — 
itself  a  striking  proof  of  the  use  of  the  xupio?  title  by  the 
primitive  community  in  Jerusalem. 


JESUS  AS  LORD  105 

was  conceived  as  exercising  the  rights  of  Lordship. 
It  is  evident,  rather,  that  the  name  by  which 
he  was  now  known  had  come  to  be  inseparably- 
attached  to  him,  so  that  it  was  employed  even 
in  connection  with  his  earthly  ministry.  The 
definite  import  of  the  name  is  that  assigned  to  it 
by  Peter  at  Pentecost:  "God  hath  now  made  him 
both  Lord  and  Christ."  (2)  On  the  other  hand, 
by  the  use  of  the  title  the  church  declared  its  own 
peculiar  relation  to  the  Messianic  king.  It  had 
broken  with  the  present  order  and  had  thrown 
in  its  lot  with  the  new  and  higher  order.  Jesus 
had  recognised  it  as  his  holy  community  over 
which  he  reigned  as  Lord.  The  belief  in  his  Mes- 
siahship  might  conceivably  be  held  by  one  who 
was  still  outside  of  the  circle  of  his  people;  but  to 
call  him  by  the  name  of  "Lord"  was  itself  the 
assertion  of  a  claim  upon  him,  a  right  of  citizen- 
ship in  his  kingdom.  For  this  reason  the  bap- 
tismal confession  took  the  form  of  "Jesus  is 
Lord."  By  making  this  declaration,  the  convert 
not  merely  expressed  a  belief  that  Jesus  was  the 
Messiah  but  brought  himself  into  a  bond  of 
union  with  Jesus.  Acknowledging  him  as  Lord, 
he  passed  over  by  that  act  into  the  Christian 
church  and  became  possessed  of  those  mysteri- 
ous privileges  of  which  it  held  the  keeping.  So, 
as  contrasted  with  Messiah,  Kvpio<;  was  the  name 
that  implied  surrender  to  Jesus  and  participation 
in  his  reign.     It  was  attributed  to  him  by  those 


106         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

within  the  chosen  community,  and  their  use  o! 
it  was  the  mark  of  their  high  calling.  "  No  man," 
says  Paul,  "can  call  Jesus  Lord  but  by  the  Holy 
Spirit";  that  is,  to  confess  him  by  that  name  is 
proof  that  you  are  numbered  among  his  people  on 
whom  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  has  been  bestowed. 

It  is  from  this  point  of  view  that  we  must 
understand  that  conception  of  faith  which  was 
henceforth  to  determine  the  whole  nature  of 
Christianity.  One  of  the  earliest  names  by  which 
the  disciples  called  themselves  was  "the  behev- 
ers"  (ot  irLarevovTe^) ;  and  the  primary  meaning 
of  the  name  admits  of  little  doubt.  The  "be- 
lief" which  it  denoted  was  the  acknowledgment 
of  the  Messianic  right  of  Jesus.  While  the  out- 
side world  averred  that  he  had  been  justly  put 
to  death  as  a  false  Messiah,  his  own  followers  be- 
lieved his  claim.  This  was  all  that  was  directly 
signified  by  faith;  yet  we  altogether  misappre- 
hend its  import,  even  in  the  earliest  days,  when 
we  explain  it  as  nothing  else  than  the  intellectual 
assent  to  a  given  thesis.  The  Christian  confes- 
sion, as  we  have  seen,  was  expressed  in  the  form 
"Jesus  is  Lord,"  and  by  making  this  confession 
the  convert  not  only  declared  his  belief  that 
Jesus  was  the  Messiah  but  placed  himself  in  a 
certain  relation  to  Jesus.  He  submitted  his  life 
to  be  ruled  by  Jesus.  He  broke  with  the  present 
order  of  things  and  identified  himself  with  that 
new  community  in  which  Jesus  reigned.     From 


JESUS  AS  LORD  107 

the  beginning  we  find  the  idea  of  faith  vitally 
associated  with  that  of  *' salvation."  To  accept 
Jesus  as  Lord  implied  that  you  had  transferred 
your  allegiance  from  this  world,  which  was  pres- 
ently to  undergo  the  judgment  and  had  your  por- 
tion in  the  kingdom  of  God.  It  has  been  custom- 
ary to  assume  that  Paul  radically  transformed  the 
idea  of  faith  which  had  been  given  him  by  the 
early  church.  The  mere  intellectual  act  of  belief 
became  for  him  an  act  of  w^ill,  of  entire  self-sur- 
render. Paul  was,  indeed,  the  first  to  analyse  the 
conception  of  faith  and  to  exhibit  it  in  its  true 
significance  for  the  Christian  life;  but  the  con- 
ception itself  was  present  and  fully  operative  from 
the  beginning.  In  the  same  act  whereby  they 
acknowledged  the  claim  of  Christ,  the  earliest 
converts  subjected  their  wills  to  him,  placed  them- 
selves under  his  protection,  threw  in  their  lot 
with  his  cause.  All  that  was  subsequently  meant 
by  faith  was  implicit  in  the  confession  "Jesus  is 
Lord." 

In  one  respect,  indeed,  Paul  infused  a  new  ele- 
ment into  the  primitive  conception  or  at  least 
gave  clear  expression  to  an  element  that  had  lain 
hidden.  He  connected  faith  in  Christ  with  that 
personal  devotion  to  him  which  lay  at  the  heart 
of  his  own  religion.  The  love  and  reverence  which 
Jesus  had  awakened  in  his  disciples  had  always 
remained  with  them  and  had  given  meaning  and 
reality  to  their  belief  in  his  Messiahship.     But 


108        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

this  estimate  of  his  person  was  merged  in  that  of 
his  oflBce.  He  was  the  Lord  who  would  reign  in 
the  new  age,  and  by  confessing  him  they  were 
marked  out  as  the  people  of  the  kingdom.  With 
Paul,  however,  the  object  of  faith  is  Christ  in  his 
own  person.  "He  is  made  unto  us  wisdom  and 
righteousness  and  sanctification  and  redemption'* 
(I  Cor.  1  :  30).  Faith  has  its  issue  in  the  mystical 
union  with  Christ,  whereby  the  life  that  is  in  him 
communicates  itself  to  the  believer.  This  mood 
of  personal  devotion  appears  to  have  begun  with 
Paul,  and  may  partly  be  explained  from  his  pe- 
culiar temperament  and  the  influences  by  which 
his  thinking  was  affected.  But  in  the  last  resort 
we  can  recognise  in  it  the  inevitable  development 
of  Christian  thought.  Jesus  had  given  his  mes- 
sage under  apocalyptic  forms,  and  after  his  death 
it  continued  to  be  enclosed  within  this  framework. 
The  disciples  were  absorbed  in  the  thought  of  the 
coming  kingdom,  and  their  faith  was  directed  to 
Jesus  as  the  Lord  through  whom  they  would  pos- 
sess the  kingdom.  But  as  time  went  on  the  apoca- 
lyptic forms  tended  to  fall  away.  It  was  under- 
stood, ever  more  clearly,  that  the  new  life  had 
been  given  to  men  in  Christ  himself  and  that 
fellowship  with  him  was  the  true  fulfilment  of  the 
kingdom  of  God. 


LECTURE  V 

THE  RELATION  OF  THE  CHURCH  TO  JUDAISM 

The  Christian  community  grew  up  at  Jeru- 
salem under  the  shadow  of  the  temple  and  the 
rabbinical  schools,  and  its  first  members  were  of 
Jewish  birth  and  had  been  nurtured  in  the  na- 
tional customs  and  traditions.     In  view  of  these 
undoubted  facts,  it  has  been  commonly  assumed 
that  Christianity  at  the  outset  was  scarcely  dis- 
tinguishable from  Judaism.    So  far  from  surmis- 
ing that  they  were  the  pioneers  of  a  new  religion, 
the  disciples  were  anxious  to  maintain  their  status 
as  orthodox  Jews;  and  it  was  the  supreme  service 
of  the  Apostle  Paul  that  he  asserted  the  original- 
ity and  independence  of  the  gospel.    He  did  not 
succeed  except  at  the  cost  of  a  violent  struggle, 
and  even  to  the  end  the  great  mass  of  Jewish  con- 
verts refused  to  follow  him.     Now,  we  have  al- 
ready seen  reason  to  believe  that  this  reading  of 
the  primitive  history  is  a  superficial  one.     The 
Christian  movement,  disguised  as  it  was  under 
Jewish  forms,  was  essentially  new,  and  this  was 
recognised  even  by  its  earliest  adherents.     But 
the  whole  question  of  the  relation  of  the  primitive 

109 


110         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

church  to  Judaism  is  so  difficult  and  complex, 
and  is  so  vitally  bound  up  with  larger  issues,  that 
it  demands  a  separate  investigation. 

It  may  be  admitted  that  in  the  commonly  ac- 
cepted view  there  is  much  that  appears  to  cor- 
respond with  the  historical  facts.  The  disciples 
had  evidently  no  intention  of  breaking  with 
Judaism,  and  never  expected  that  their  teaching 
would  in  the  end  subvert  it.  While  associating 
as  a  brotherhood  and  holding  to  their  faith  in 
Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  they  continued  to  show  loy- 
alty to  the  ancient  ordinances.  In  the  speeches 
ascribed  to  Peter  in  the  opening  chapters  of  Acts 
there  is  no  suggestion  of  a  menace  to  the  beliefs 
and  institutions  of  Judaism.  On  the  contrary, 
Peter  is  careful  to  preserve  an  attitude  of  friendli- 
ness to  his  Jewish  countrymen.  He  attributes 
their  rejection  of  Jesus  to  ignorance  (Acts  3  :  17), 
and  refuses  to  admit  that  they  have  incurred  any 
permanent  stain  of  guilt,  much  less  a  final  con- 
demnation. By  the  acknowledgment  of  their 
great  error  they  are  to  be  stirred  up  to  a  more 
earnest  repentance;  for  in  spite  of  all  that  has 
passed  they  are  the  true  heirs  of  the  covenant,  and 
the  promises  given  by  God  through  the  prophets 
still  remain  valid  for  them  and  their  children 
(Acts  3  :  24-36;  2  :  39).  The  feeUng  toward 
Judaism  which  thus  pervaded  the  earliest  Chris- 
tian preaching,  has  not  wholly  disappeared  even 
in  the  writings  of  Paul.     He,  too,  declares  that 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  111 

God's  covenant  with  Lis  chosen  people  cannot 
fall  to  the  ground  and  that  their  seeming  rejection 
can  be  only  temporary.  The  gentiles  are  reminded 
of  their  incalculable  debt  to  Israel,  and  are  taught 
to  recognise  that,  notwithstanding  its  present  un- 
belief, Israel  has  a  prior  claim  which  will  yet  be- 
come effectual. 

It  does  not  follow,  however,  that  the  disciples 
aimed  at  nothing  more  than  to  constitute  a  sect 
within  the  parent  religion.  With  the  fullest  con- 
sciousness that  they  had  come  into  possession  of 
something  new,  they  may  yet  have  sought  to  re- 
tain their  hold  on  the  system  they  had  inherited 
and  to  construe  their  new  faith  by  the  categories 
which  it  supplied.  In  the  history  of  every  great 
movement  the  new  wine  is  poured,  to  begin 
with,  into  old  bottles.  Men  take  for  granted  that 
the  existing  order  must  continue  and  will  not  ac- 
knowledge that  they  have  definitely  broken  with 
it.  They  avail  themselves  of  its  language  and 
conceptions,  and  imagine  that  they  are  only  re- 
modelling it,  when,  in  point  of  fact,  they  are  build- 
ing on  fresh  foundations.  This  was  inevitably 
the  position  of  the  first  disciples.  Judaism  was 
their  whole  world  of  thought,  and  the  idea  of 
escaping  from  it  did  not  present  itself  to  their 
minds.  Assuming  its  validity  and  permanence 
as  self-evident,  they  tried  to  find  room  in  it  for 
their  new  beliefs  and  to  express  them  in  terms  of 
it.     None  the  less  they  were  sensible  of  the  diver- 


112         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

gence  of  those  beliefs  from  the  current  Judaism. 
While  they  clung  to  the  old  presuppositions — 
for  they  could  conceive  of  no  others — they  were 
secretly  aware  of  their  inadequacy  and  were 
reaching  out  beyond  them.  In  one  sense  it  is 
true  that  Christianity  did  not  assert  itself  as  a 
new  religion  until  Paul  severed  the  bonds  that 
united  it  with  the  Law.  But,  when  all  is  said, 
Paul  did  nothing  more  than  recognise  as  a  prin- 
ciple what  had  always  been  true  in  fact.  The 
church,  though  allying  itself  with  Judaism,  was 
inwardly  separate  from  it — a  new  organism  with 
a  mission  and  character  of  its  own. 

But  the  initial  acceptance  of  Judaism  is  not  to 
be  explained  wholly  from  this  unwillingness  or 
inability  to  break  away  from  an  established  tra- 
dition. For  the  very  reason  that  it  was  aware  of 
its  own  special  calling,  the  church  held  fast  to  the 
Jewish  connection.  The  inconsistency  of  the  new 
religion  with  the  old  was  sufficiently  apparent 
from  the  first,  and  in  ordinary  course  a  separation 
would  have  been  effected  before  the  days  of  Paul. 
But  the  earlier  Apostles  refused  to  make  the 
separation.  They  were  convinced  that  in  order 
to  realise  its  essential  idea  the  church  required  to 
maintain  its  link  with  Judaism. 

At  the  risk  of  repetition  it  is  here  necessary  to 
insist  once  more  on  that  conception  of  the  Ec- 
clesia  on  which  the  Christian  brotherhood  was 
founded.    The  belief  had  come  down  from  the  age 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  113 

of  the  prophets  that  there  had  always  been  in 
Israel  a  "remnant"  which  had  stood  for  the 
nation  in  its  ideal  character  amidst  all  the  moral 
failure  and  unworthiness.  It  was  claimed  that 
this  genuine  people  of  God  was  now  represented 
by  the  Christian  church.  Not  only  was  the 
church  continuous  with  the  true  Israel  of  the 
past,  but  its  title  depended  on  the  fact  of  its  con- 
tinuity. It  was  heir  to  the  promises  in  so  far  as 
it  could  prove  itself  one  with  the  faithful  commu- 
nity to  which  they  had  been  given.  This  concep- 
tion of  the  Ecclesia  from  which  it  took  its  depar- 
ture involved  a  twofold  relation  between  primitive 
Christianity  and  Judaism. 

On  the  one  hand,  the  church  was  conscious 
that  it  stood  apart  from  the  nation.  As  in  the 
past  there  had  been  a  clear  distinction  between 
the  chosen  remnant  and  Israel  as  a  whole,  so 
now  the  Ecclesia  had  its  own  calling  in  w^hich 
Israel  did  not  participate.  It  rested  its  confidence 
on  other  grounds  than  those  of  racial  descent 
and  prerogative.  This  is  plainly  brought  out 
even  in  those  speeches  of  Peter  which  seem  to 
prove  conclusively  that  as  yet  there  was  no 
thought  of  separation.  Peter  declares,  in  so  many 
words,  that  the  nation  has  no  share  in  those  hopes 
which  have  been  awakened  by  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus.  The  promise  was,  indeed,  made  to  the 
Jews,  "to  you  and  to  your  children,"  but  at  pres- 
ent they  are  outside  of  the  scope  of  its  opera- 


114        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

tion.  It  is  reserved  for  the  Christian  brother- 
hood,  and  men  must  attach  themselves  to  that 
brotherhood  by  faith  in  Christ  before  they  can 
obtain  their  inheritance.  On  this  distinction  of 
the  church  from  the  larger  community  of  the 
nation  the  whole  argument  of  Peter  may  be  said 
to  turn. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  church  laid  em- 
phasis on  its  solidarity  with  the  nation.  The  true 
Israel,  into  whose  traditions  it  had  entered,  had 
been  a  portion  of  the  actual  Israel.  It  inherited 
the  promises  not  in  its  own  right  but  as  repre- 
senting the  nation  in  its  higher  calHng.  Israel 
had  been  the  object  of  God's  choice;  and  this  was 
still  true,  although  there  was  only  a  minority 
that  had  proved  worthy  of  the  privileges  which 
were  offered  to  all.  This  conviction,  which  is 
marked  so  clearly  in  the  prophets,  was  held  no 
less  firmly  in  the  early  church.  It  was  assumed 
that  the  Ecclesia,  while  it  constituted  a  body 
apart,  was  yet  involved  in  the  natural  Israel  and 
derived  its  title  through  the  nation.  Paul  was  the 
first  who  grasped  the  idea  of  a  purely  spiritual 
community — a  people  descended  from  Abraham 
in  so  far  as  they  shared  the  faith  of  Abraham. 
But  it  is  worth  noting  that  even  Paul  did  not 
succeed  in  entirely  freeing  himself  from  the  belief 
that  the  higher  vocation  was  in  some  manner  in- 
herent in  the  race.  To  the  question,  "What  ad- 
vantage, then,  hath  the  Jew? "  he  answers  un- 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  115 

hesitatingly:  "Much  every  way."*  He  cannot 
forget  that  he  himself  has  kinship  with  the  people 
"to  whom  pertaineth  the  adoption  and  the  glory 
and  the  giving  of  the  Law  and  the  service  of  God 
and  the  promises;  whose  are  the  fathers,  and  of 
whom,  concerning  the  flesh,  Christ  came."  f  If 
this  sense  of  the  prerogatives  of  the  nation  still 
clung  to  the  mind  of  Paul,  we  cannot  wonder 
that  it  coloured  the  thinking  of  the  older  Apos- 
tles who  had  not  yet  contemplated  the  possibility 
of  a  church  that  should  include  others  than  Jews 
within  its  membership.  Distinguishing  though 
they  did  between  the  true  and  the  historical  Israel, 
they  yet  assumed  their  interrelation  as  self-evi- 
dent. The  very  idea  of  an  Ecclesia  implied  that 
of  a  chosen  nation. 

We  have  to  reckon,  therefore,  with  a  twofold 
attitude  to  Judaism,  and  both  sides  must  be  taken 
into  account  if  we  would  rightly  understand  the 
controversy  which  was  in  process  throughout  the 
lifetime  of  Paul.  The  controversy  inevitably 
centred  on  the  relation  of  Christianity  to  the  Law. 
The  mere  racial  sentiment  had  already  been  so 
far  relaxed  that  submission  to  the  Law,  with  its 
accompanying  seal  of  circumcision,  was  accepted 
as  equivalent  to  actual  Jewish  descent.  And  with 
the  rise  of  the  gentile  mission  the  question  be- 
came acute  as  to  whether  the  Law  was  obligatory 

*  Romans  3  :  1,  2.  t  Romans  9  :  3-5. 


116        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

on  those  who  had  complied  with  the  condition  of 
faith  in  Christ.  In  the  earlier  days  the  question 
could  not  present  itself  in  a  clear-cut  form,  as  it 
did  later;  but  from  the  beginning  the  church 
must  have  held  some  theory  as  to  the  relation  of 
faith  and  the  Law.  How  far  is  it  possible  to  get 
behind  the  Pauline  conflict  and  to  determine  the 
place  which  was  assigned  to  the  Law  in  primitive 
Christian  thought? 

It  is  apparent — alike  from  the  testimony  of 
Acts  and  of  Paul's  Epistles — that  the  early  dis- 
ciples conformed  to  the  Law  in  the  same  manner 
as  their  Jewish  countrymen.  Indeed,  it  was  this 
fidelity  to  the  Law  that  proved  the  safeguard  of 
the  infant  church,  enabling  it  to  survive  within 
the  very  citadel  of  Judaism  until  it  became  strong 
enough  to  hold  its  own.  The  immunity  enjoyed 
by  the  disciples  has  often  been  regarded  as  one 
of  the  chief  problems  of  the  early  history.  They 
settled  at  Jerusalem  immediately  after  the  death 
of  Jesus,  when  the  very  men  who  had  so  sedu- 
lously planned  his  destruction  were  still  in  power. 
Yet  for  a  period  of  several  years  they  remained 
unmolested  and  were  allowed  to  carry  on  a  vig- 
orous propaganda.  It  is  the  manifest  purpose 
of  the  writer  of  Acts  to  make  out  that  Christian- 
ity had  always  suffered  persecution  at  the  hands 
of  the  Jews,  but  he  has  to  admit  that  during  the 
first  critical  years  it  was  left  at  liberty.  He  tells, 
indeed,  of  an  inquiry  into  the  new  teaching  on  the 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  117 

part  of  the  council,  and  by  the  use  of  a  double 
narrative  of  what  seems  to  be  the  same  incident 
he  gives  us  the  impression  of  two  separate  at- 
tacks. But  it  is  clear,  by  his  own  showing,  that 
the  inquiry  resulted  in  nothing  more  serious  than 
an  admonition.  Even  when  a  real  persecution 
broke  out  at  last,  in  consequence  of  the  aggres- 
sive preaching  of  Stephen,  it  was  evidently  partial 
in  its  operation.  The  Jewish  authorities  distin- 
guished between  two  parties  in  the  church,  and, 
while  the  adherents  of  Stephen  were  dispersed 
and  brought  to  trial,  the  Apostles  themselves  con- 
tinued at  Jerusalem  in  the  enjoyment  of  their 
previous  freedom.  This  toleration  can  hardly  be 
explained  on  the  ground  that  the  new  movement 
was  an  obscure  one,  which  was  purposely  disre- 
garded lest  an  ofiScial  ban  might  bring  it  into 
prominence.  A  wisdom  of  this  kind  is  rarely  to 
be  found  among  jealous  ecclesiastics  holding  a 
monopoly  of  spiritual  power.  Moreover,  it  is 
evident  from  the  sparing  of  the  Apostles  after 
the  death  of  Stephen  that  no  hostility  was  shown 
to  the  Christian  movement  for  its  own  sake. 
Nor  can  we  accept  Luke's  explanation,  embodied 
in  the  speech  ascribed  to  Gamaliel,  that  the 
Jewish  leaders  had  agreed  to  suspend  their  judg- 
ment until  it  should  appear  from  the  success  or 
failure  of  the  mission  whether  it  was  of  God. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  eventual  success,  which 
ought  on  this  hypothesis  to  have  secured  its  recog- 
nition, was  the  signal  for  the  outbreak  of  perse- 


118         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

cution.  It  seems  possible  to  account  in  only  one 
way  for  the  tolerant  attitude  so  long  observed  by 
the  authorities.  They  were  the  appointed  guard- 
ians of  the  Law,  and  the  disciples,  while  making 
no  concealment  of  their  new  beliefs,  remained 
faithful  to  the  Law.  Judaism,  it  must  be  borne  in 
mind,  was,  in  the  first  instance,  a  ceremonial  code, 
conforming,  in  this  respect,  to  the  general  type  of 
ancient  religion,  in  which  mere  belief  played  little 
part.  We  know  that  in  Greece  and  Rome  there 
was  room  for  a  wide  diversity  of  philosophical 
opinion  so  long  as  the  accepted  religious  cere- 
monies were  observed  in  due  form.  Religion,  to 
the  ancient  mind,  was  not  so  much  a  matter  of 
belief  as  of  praxis;  Hberty  was  allowed  for  an 
endless  modification  of  doctrine,  while  the  ritual 
was  inflexibly  maintained.  Judaism,  it  is  true, 
was  based  on  doctrine  to  a  much  greater  extent 
than  the  other  religions  of  the  time,  and  one  be- 
lief— that  of  the  unity  of  God — was  held  with  an 
uncompromising  tenacity.  But  apart  from  this 
and  the  dogmas  which  immediately  flowed  from 
it,  opinion  was  left  free.  Pharisees  and  Saddu- 
cees  were  at  variance  on  cardinal  points  of  faith. 
The  sect  of  the  Essenes  had  grafted  on  the  stem 
of  orthodox  Judaism  many  strange  speculations, 
borrowed  apparently  from  the  East;  yet  the  Es- 
senes were  not  only  recognised  as  pious  Jews  but 
were  held  in  peculiar  reverence  because  of  their 
exact  observance  of  the  Law.  A  still  more  con- 
spicuous instance  is  that  of  Philo,  who  resolved 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  119 

the  whole  Old  Testament  teaching  into  a  specu- 
lative system,  derived  from  Plato  and  the  Stoics, 
without  ever  ceasing  to  regard  himself  as  a  faith- 
ful Jew.  Numberless  Jews,  especially  among  the 
Dispersion,  seem  to  have  exercised  a  similar  free- 
dom. Thus,  we  are  not  to  think  of  the  Judaism 
of  the  first  century  as  a  strictly  uniform  system. 
It  contained  within  itself  a  hundred  sects  holding 
beliefs  of  the  most  varied  character  but  all  ac- 
knowledging the  validity  of  the  Law.  Between 
the  more  eccentric  sects  and  the  general  body  of 
traditional  Judaism  there  might  be  bitter  con- 
troversy, but  their  right  to  a  place  within  the 
borders  of  the  national  rehgion  was  not  seriously 
called  in  question. 

We  may  conclude,  then,  that  Christianity  in 
its  initial  period  shared  in  the  Hberty  that  was 
granted,  as  a  natural  right,  in  matters  of  belief. 
The  authorities  may  well  have  been  suspicious 
of  the  new  movement,  but  they  could  urge  no 
valid  reason  for  proceeding  against  it  so  long  as 
the  legal  orthodoxy  of  its  adherents  was  un- 
doubted. It  was  only  when  a  party  in  the  church 
took  up  a  critical  attitude  toward  the  venerable 
institutions  of  Jewish  worship  that  official  Judaism 
became  alarmed,  although  even  then  it  exempted 
from  the  persecution  those  who  remained  faithful 
to  the  ceremonial  religion. 

Admitting,  however,  that  Christianity  was  re- 
garded from  the  outside  as  a  mere  variant  type  of 


120         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Judaism,  we  have  now  to  consider  whether  this 
view  corresponded  with  that  of  the  church  itself. 
Are  we  to  infer  from  its  acquiescence  in  the  Law 
that  it  sought  to  remain  on  the  footing  of  a  sect 
within  the  pale  of  the  national  religion?  The 
answer  to  this  question  has  often  been  confused 
by  failure  to  allow  for  a  difference  between  the 
earlier  and  later  conditions  of  the  church  at  Jeru- 
salem. There  are  clear  indications  that  after  the 
death  of  Stephen,  and  still  more  after  the  general 
persecution  under  Herod  Agrippa  in  the  year  42, 
the  mother  community  became  increasingly  Jew- 
ish in  its  sympathies.  A  strong  party  raised  op- 
position to  Paul  on  the  express  ground  that  he  was 
subverting  the  authority  of  the  Law;  and  it  was 
able  to  claim,  apparently  with  some  show  of  reason, 
that  the  church  at  Jerusalem  was  in  sympathy 
with  it.  But  it  seems  more  than  probable  that 
the  earlier  attitude  was  wholly  different.  Paul 
emphatically  declares  that  the  party  which  op- 
posed him  consisted  of  "false  brethren,"  *  and  in- 
sists that  between  himself  and  the  older  Apostles, 
although  there  might  be  divergence  of  opinion, 
there  was  no  real  antagonism.  In  this  connec- 
tion his  account  of  the  dispute  at  Antioch  is 
particularly  illuminating.  He  aflBrms  that  Peter, 
although  he  finally  took  an  opposite  side,  was  of 
the  same  mind  as  himself  and  was  overborne  in 
spite  of  his  real  convictions.  So  thoroughly  was 
he  assured  of  Peter^s  true  sentiments  that  he  did 
*  Gal.  2  :  4. 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  121 

not  hesitate  to  accuse  him  openly  of  "hypoc- 
risy." It  is  commonly  assumed  that  these  senti- 
ments of  Peter — if  Paul  is  correct  in  his  judgment 
of  them — were  peculiar  to  Peter  himself.  He 
was  a  man  of  rpen,  catholic  nature,  and  his  per- 
sonal intercourse  with  Jesus  had  deepened  and 
purified  his  instincts.  At  a  distance  from  the 
contracting  Judean  atmosphere  he  had  ventured 
to  give  scope  to  his  larger  view  of  Christianity, 
although  he  shrank  back  when  pressure  from 
Jerusalem  was  brought  to  bear  on  him.  But  we 
miss  the  significance  of  the  whole  incident  when 
we  read  in  it  nothing  more  than  the  individual 
attitude  of  Peter.  Paul,  it  is  evident,  means  us 
to  think  of  Peter  as  representing  the  view  which 
was  characteristic  of  the  primitive  church,  al- 
though it  had  been  perverted  by  the  influence 
of  the  "false  brethren."  It  is  this  that  gives 
point  to  Paul's  rebuke  of  the  older  Apostle.  He 
appeals  not  so  much  to  his  private  conscience  as 
to  his  knowledge  of  the  true  position  of  the  church. 
Peter,  it  is  suggested,  must  know  in  his  heart 
that  this  practice  which  he  is  countenancing  is 
the  later  innovation,  while  Paul  has  taken  his 
stand  on  the  genuine  primitive  tradition. 

What,  then,  was  this  tradition  to  which  Peter 
had  been  disloyal?  It  is  clearly  set  forth  in  the 
words  of  remonstrance  which  Paul  addressed  to 
him,  and  which  he  repeats  in  his  narrative  of  the 
incident.    "We  who  are  Jews  by  nature  and  not 


122         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

sinners  of  the  gentiles,  knowing  that  a  man  is 
not  justified  by  the  works  of  the  Law  but  by  the 
faith  of  Jesus  Christ,  even  we  have  believed  in 
Jesus  Christ  that  we  might  be  justified  by  the 
faith  of  Christ  and  not  by  work?  of  the  Law" 
(Gal.  2  :  15, 16).  Faith  in  Christ,  and  faith  alone, 
is  necessary  to  salvation.  This,  according  to 
Paul,  is  not  merely  his  own  interpretation  of  the 
gospel,  but  is  shared  with  him  by  the  primitive 
Apostles.  The  Judaists,  who  contend  that  works 
of  the  Law  are  required  in  addition  to  faith,  have 
corrupted  the  original  teaching  of  the  church. 

Now,  it  might  appear  at  first  sight  as  if  Paul 
here  showed  a  complete  ignorance  of  the  earlier 
situation  or  viewed  it  solely  through  the  medium 
of  his  own  beliefs.  The  disciples,  as  we  have  seen, 
had  no  intention  of  breaking  away  from  the  Law. 
The  sharp  opposition  between  works  of  the  Law 
and  faith  in  Christ  did  not  exist  for  them,  and 
only  emerged  in  the  course  of  that  controversy  of 
which  Paul  himself  was  the  centre.  That  Paul 
should  have  imputed  to  Peter  a  view  that  was  so 
peculiarly  his  own  has  often  appeared  incredible, 
and  attempts  have  been  made  to  explain  the 
passage  quoted  above  as  a  parenthetical  reflec- 
tion with  no  bearing  on  anything  that  was  ac- 
tually said  at  Antioch.  It  is,  indeed,  probable 
that  Paul  gives  only  an  abstract  of  his  speech 
and  throws  the  argument  into  theological  lan- 
guage  which   he   may   not   have   literally   used. 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  123 

But  the  passage  can  hardly  be  construed  in  any- 
other  way  than  as  part  of  the  remonstrance;  in- 
deed, as  the  essential  part,  which  lends  it  force 
and  meaning.  Paul  declares  in  so  many  words 
that  to  the  primitive  church  as  to  himself  faith 
was  everything  and  the  Law  a  mere  side  issue,  and 
on  this  fact  he  is  content  to  rest  his  cause.  Nor 
is  there  any  fair  reason  to  doubt  that  this  account 
of  the  primitive  position  was  substantially  correct 
and  was  so  recognised  by  Peter.  The  church  in 
its  earliest  form  was  composed  wholly  of  Jews  or 
Jewish  proselytes  by  whom  the  Law  was  accepted 
as  something  normal  and  inevitable.  It  was 
possible  for  them  to  continue  their  adherence  to 
it  and  yet  to  be  fully  conscious  that  its  value  was 
altogether  secondary.  Jesus  himself  had  con- 
formed to  the  Law,  as  to  an  established  system, 
while  he  never  confused  this  conventional  rule 
of  life  \sdth  the  higher  spiritual  requirements,  and 
his  disciples  adopted  it  in  a  like  manner.  With- 
out ever  questioning  that  the  Law  was  obligatory, 
they  yet  perceived  that  it  belonged  to  the  circum- 
ference and  not  to  the  essence  of  religion.  They 
disregarded  it  in  their  teaching  and  laid  the 
emphasis  on  faith  alone  as  the  condition  of  sal- 
vation. It  may  seem  paradoxical  to  affirm  that 
the  purely  Jewish  church,  confined  to  the  city  of 
Jerusalem,  was  freer  in  its  attitude  toward  Judaism 
than  the  active  missionary  church  of  a  later  time. 
But  in  reality  this  was  not  only  possible  but  nat- 


124         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

ural.  It  was  their  contact  with  the  gentiles, 
consequent  on  the  mission,  which  accentuated  in 
the  minds  of  Jewish  believers  their  sense  of  a 
special  privilege.  They  were  compelled  to  reflect 
on  their  relation  to  the  Law  and  either  to  aban- 
don it  altogether  or  to  assign  it  a  definite  place 
alongside  of  faith.  In  the  earlier  period,  when  they 
had  to  deal  solely  with  their  Jewish  countrymen, 
the  question  of  the  Law  could  be  set  aside.  They 
insisted  not  on  that  which  they  held  in  common 
with  other  Jews  but  on  that  which  was  their  own 
possession.  Faith  in  Christ  stood  out  as  the  one 
thing  needful,  while  the  Law  was  frankly  acknowl- 
edged to  be  indifferent.  It  was  Paul's  service  to 
Christianity  that  he  had  the  boldness  and  con- 
sistency to  maintain  this  ground  even  when  con- 
ditions were  changed  and  the  gospel  was  offered 
to  the  gentiles.  But  he  was  justified  in  his  plea 
that  the  belief  upheld  by  him  was  nothing  else 
than  the  original  belief  of  the  church. 

At  the  so-called  council  of  Jerusalem  the  prob- 
lem of  the  Law  was  formally  discussed  by  the 
church  leaders  and  was  settled,  apparently,  on 
the  basis  of  a  compromise;  that  the  Law  should 
still  be  binding  on  Jewish  converts  while  gentiles 
should  be  left  free.  From  this  decision  of  the 
council  it  is  perilous  to  draw  any  far-reaching 
conclusions.  Apart  from  the  many  obscurities 
and  contradictions  of  the  two  accounts  in  Acts 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  125 

and  Galatians,  we  have  to  make  allowance  for  the 
special  circumstances  by  which  the  council  was 
affected.     A  number  of  conflicting  interests  and 
types  of  opinion  had  to  be  consulted,  and  the 
settlement   agreed    upon    may    not   have   repre- 
sented the  normal  attitude  of  the  church.    More- 
over, the  drift  of  the  mother  community  toward 
Judaism  had  now  been  in  process  for  some  years; 
and  from  the  decision  adopted  by  the  council  we 
cannot  form  any  certain  estimate  as  to  the  original 
Christian  position.    Yet  if  any  attempt  was  made 
to  preserve  a  consistency  with  older  traditions 
we  may  discern  two  facts  that  were  acknowleged 
in  the  compromise.    On  the  one  hand,  the  Law  had 
never  been  regarded  as  more  than  secondary.    If 
it  had  held  its  place  from  the  first  as  a  necessary 
condition  of  salvation  the  Apostles  could  not  have 
conceded  to  Paul  that  the  gentiles  should  be  re- 
leased from  its  provisions.     By  advancing  half 
the  way  with  him  they  in  reality  granted  his 
whole  principle.    They  recognised  that  he  was  no 
innovator  but  was  merely  carrying  out  to  its  log- 
ical issue  the  authentic  teaching  of  the  church. 
On  the  other  hand,  while  it  was  subordinate  to 
faith,  the  Law  had  possessed  a  certain  value.    By 
the  decision  of  the  Apostles  a  place  was  still 
reserved  for  it,  and  we  have  no  right  to  suppose 
that  they  were  actuated  by  mere  poHcy  or  timid- 
ity.   Their  sympathies,  on  the  contrary,  seem  to 
have  been  on  the  side  of  the  Law,  and  they  did  not 


126         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

make  their  partial  concession  without  some  mis- 
giving. The  church,  as  they  knew  it,  had  always 
held  to  the  Law  in  the  belief  that  thus  alone  it 
could  realise  its  vocation.  Whatever  concessions 
might  be  made  to  the  new  requirements,  the 
church  must  still,  in  some  manner,  attach  itself 
to  the  Law. 

In  the  decision  of  the  council,  therefore,  we  can 
recognise  the  attempt  to  do  justice  to  both  sides 
of  a  twofold  tradition  which  had  come  down  from 
the  earlier  days.  Confronted  with  the  definite 
question  whether  the  Law  must  be  imposed  on  all 
who  sought  salvation  through  Christ,  the  Apos- 
tles had  no  choice  but  to  declare  on  the  side  of 
freedom.  Christianity,  they  had  to  acknowledge, 
was  wholly  independent  of  the  Law.  Yet  they 
did  not  feel  themselves  at  liberty  to  break  with 
the  Law  entirely.  Some  compromise  must  be 
adopted  whereby  the  new  religion  might  still  re- 
main anchored  to  it  as  it  had  been  from  the  be- 
ginning. What  was  the  motive  that  underlay 
this  hopeless  effort  to  retain  the  Law  while  in 
principle  it  was  discarded?  Other  influences  may 
have  played  their  part  and  have  determined  the 
form  of  the  compromise,  but  behind  them  all,  if 
our  reasoning  has  been  correct,  was  the  feeling 
that  the  church  must  justify  its  title  to  be  the 
new  Israel.  As  the  Ecclesia  it  was  not  merely  a 
spiritual  community  now  asserting  itself  for  the 
first  time,  but  was  one  with  God's  elect  people  in 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  127 

the  past.  The  destiny  it  sought  to  fulfil  was  that 
to  which  God  had  been  guiding  his  saints  through 
all  the  centuries  of  Jewish  history.  His  promises 
had  been  given  to  the  fathers  and  could  only  be 
inherited  by  those  who  stood  in  the  line  of  true 
succession.  Thus  to  early  Christian  thinking  it 
was  imperative  that  the  church  should  preserve 
its  continuity  with  the  historical  Israel.  It  was 
indeed  the  new  community,  and  membership  in 
it  was  conditioned  solely  by  the  confession  of 
Jesus  as  Lord.  But,  none  the  less,  it  represented 
Israel,  and  its  claims  were  rooted  in  this  identity 
with  God's  chosen  people.  For  this  reason  it  was 
deemed  necessary  that  the  Law  should  obtain 
at  least  a  formal  recognition  even  though  the 
church  was  now  founded  on  the  new  principle  of 
faith.  In  itself  the  Law  could  effect  nothing  to- 
ward the  purpose  of  salvation,  but  it  was  the  char- 
acteristic mark  of  Israel,  inseparable  from  the 
covenant  which  God  had  made  with  his  people. 
By  discarding  the  Law  the  Christian  community 
might  sever  that  vital  connection  with  the  past 
which  constituted  it  the  Ecclesia. 

When  we  thus  conceive  of  the  primitive  atti- 
tude a  whole  side  of  Paul's  polemic  becomes  more 
clearly  intelligible.  He  set  himself  to  demon- 
strate not  only  that  the  Law  cannot  be  the  ground 
of  salvation  but  that  it  has  no  bearing  on  the  es- 
sential character  of  the  church.  The  true  Israel, 
he  argues,  has  always  been  independent  of  the 


128         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Law.  Centuries  before  Moses  God  had  made  his 
covenant  with  Abraham  on  the  basis  of  faith 
alone,  and  ever  since  he  had  reckoned  as  his  peo- 
ple those  who  participated  in  the  faith  of  Abra- 
ham. There  was  no  need,  therefore,  that  the 
Christian  church  should  cling  to  the  Law  in  the 
fear  that  otherwise  it  might  miss  the  inheritance 
that  had  descended  through  the  elect  people.  By 
adopting  faith  as  its  one  principle  it  maintained 
its  continuity  with  that  true  Israel  which  had  ever 
existed  within  the  nation.  In  this  way  Paul  vin- 
dicates the  claim  of  the  church  to  be  a  purely 
spiritual  community.  For  him,  as  for  the  Apostles 
before  him,  the  Ecclesia  takes  up  the  vocation  of 
Israel  and  thus  becomes  heir  to  those  promises  of 
God  which  cannot  be  broken.  But  the  conception 
is  now  set  free  from  all  its  national  limitations. 
Bound  up  though  it  is  with  the  past  history  of 
the  Jewish  people,  the  Ecclesia  is  the  communion 
of  faith  into  which  the  faithful  of  all  lands  and 
times  have  the  right  of  entrance. 

It  may  be  concluded,  therefore,  that  in  spite  of 
its  apparent  dependence  on  Judaism  the  church 
was  conscious  from  the  outset  of  a  separate  place 
and  calling.  The  fideHty  to  the  Law,  which  might 
seem  to  mark  it  as  a  mere  Jewish  sect,  is  to  be  ex- 
plained from  the  fundamental  conception  of  the 
Ecclesia  as  it  was  understood  by  the  primitive 
disciples.     They  believed  that  as  the  new  com- 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  129 

munity,  ordained  by  God  to  possess  the  kingdom, 
they  were  the  true  Israel  and  must  secure  their 
title  by  linking  themselves  with  the  Israel  of  the 
past.  For  this  reason  they  conformed  to  the  na- 
tional traditions,  but  their  aim  all  the  time  was 
to  attach  themselves  not  to  the  nation  but  to  the 
"remnant'^ — the  Israel  which  was,  indeed,  the 
people  of  God.  It  was  not  till  the  advent  of  Paul 
that  the  confusion  of  ideas,  natural  to  the  early 
days,  was  dissolved  and  the  Ecclesia  became  aware 
that  it  could  realise  its  vocation  as  the  spiritual 
Israel  apart  from  the  observance  of  the  Law.  But 
even  in  the  initial  period  it  took  its  stand  on  prin- 
ciples which  were  radically  incompatible  with 
Judaism  and  whose  import  could  hardly  be  mis- 
taken by  reflecting  minds.  (1)  It  reverted  from 
the  legal  to  the  prophetic  conception  of  religion. 
Ever  since  John  the  Baptist  a  movement  had  been 
in  process  which  was  essentially  a  revolt  from  the 
Law,  although  in  its  earlier  phases  its  true  char- 
acter was  partially  concealed.  Jesus  himself  was 
the  grand  representative  of  this  prophetic  re- 
vival, and  for  those  who  based  their  lives  on  his 
teaching  the  Law  could  have  nothing  but  a  formal 
value.  It  was  replaced  by  an  inward  law  of 
righteousness  from  which  there  was  no  appeal. 
(2)  It  demanded  a  recognition  of  Jesus  as  Lord 
and  declared  that  this  confession  of  Jesus  was  the 
one  thing  necessary  for  salvation.  Paul  at  a 
later  time  gave  a  new  and  profounder  meaning  to 


130         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

the  idea  of  faith  in  Christ.  He  made  it  clear 
that  faith  was  sufficient  in  itself  and  could  only  be 
neutralised  by  any  attempt  to  combine  it  with 
obedience  to  the  Law.  But  the  truth  which  Paul 
established  by  theological  argument  must  have 
come  home  to  men  in  a  practical  way  from  the 
first.  It  was  impossible  for  the  church  to  serve 
two  masters.  By  the  acceptance  of  Christ  as  Lord 
the  authority  of  the  Law  was  inwardly  broken, 
and  the  formal  emancipation  from  it  was  only 
a  matter  of  time.  (3)  It  claimed  to  be  the  com- 
munity of  the  Spirit.  This,  indeed,  was  the 
chief  characteristic  of  the  church,  that  it  was  en- 
dued already  with  that  divine  power  which  would 
be  manifested  in  the  new  age.  As  distinguished 
from  all  other  societies,  which  were  subject  to 
rules  and  ordinances,  it  was  controlled  by  the 
direct  action  of  the  Spirit.  For  a  community  of 
this  kind  there  was  no  real  place  in  Judaism.  No 
man  can  have  felt  the  presence  in  him  of  the  new 
power  without  some  sense  of  the  contradiction 
which  was  pointed  out  by  Paul:  ''If  ye  be  led  by 
the  Spirit,  ye  are  not  under  the  Law." 

That  the  bond  between  Christianity  and 
Judaism  was  never  much  more  than  a  formal  one 
is  evident,  if  from  nothing  else,  from  the  early 
progress  of  the  mission.  It  was  formerly  assumed 
that  Paul  was  the  first  to  carry  the  gospel  to  the 
gentiles,  and  that  he  ventured  on  this  great  ex- 
periment in  the  strength  of  his  conviction  that 


THE  CHURCH  AND  JUDAISM  131 

the  Law  had  now  ceased  to  be  binding.  If  Chris- 
tianity before  Paul  was  a  mere  sect  of  Judaism, 
we  have  little  choice  but  to  accept  this  theory  of 
its  extension.  Against  all  approach  to  the  gen- 
tiles the  Law  would  have  constituted  an  insuper- 
able barrier  and  the  wider  movement  could  only 
have  been  contemplated  after  Paul  had  won  his 
victory.  But  it  is  now  admitted  by  practically 
all  students  of  the  apostolic  age  that  Paul  en- 
tered on  the  mission  when  it  was  already  in  full 
progress.  Right  on  from  the  death  of  Stephen, 
if  not  earlier,  the  gospel  had  been  offered  alike 
to  Jews  and  gentiles,  and  Paul's  chief  fellow 
worker  was  Barnabas,  one  of  the  trusted  leaders 
of  the  Jerusalem  church.  We  have  to  think  of  a 
mission  that  began  not  abruptly,  in  consequence 
of  a  sudden  break  with  primitive  tradition,  but 
naturally  and  imperceptibly.  Although  them- 
selves Jews  and  faithful  in  their  observance  of  the 
Law,  the  disciples  were  conscious  that  it  had 
little  to  do  with  the  Christian  message.  They 
took  for  granted  that  faith  was  the  one  condition 
of  salvation,  and  willingly  received  gentile  be- 
lievers on  this  ground  alone.  As  yet  they  acted 
spontaneously,  in  accordance  with  their  instinctive 
sense  of  the  nature  and  purpose  of  the  gospel. 
When  they  came  to  reflect  on  all  the  issues  in- 
volved their  judgment  was  perplexed,  and  the 
later  Jewish  converts,  who  had  not  grasped  the 
essential  idea  of  Christianity,  were  eager  to  make 


132         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

the  most  of  their  misgivings.  But  the  attitude 
of  the  primitive  church  to  Judaism  was  one  of 
freedom.  It  was  recognised  that  Jesus  Christ  had 
been  the  mediator  of  a  new  covenant  independent 
of  the  Law. 


LECTURE  VI 

LIFE   IN  THE   PRIMITIVE   COMMUNITY 

The  disciples  were  drawn  to  Jerusalem  by  the 
hope  of  participating  in  the  triumph  of  Jesus 
when  he  would  return  as  Messiah  and  inaugurate 
the  kingdom  of  God.  Believing,  as  they  did,  that 
the  consummation  was  close  at  hand,  they  had  no 
programme  for  the  future  and  made  no  effort  to 
build  up  an  organised  society.  Their  impulse 
was  simply  to  resume  the  fellowship  in  which 
they  had  been  united  during  Jesus'  lifetime.  As 
his  disciples,  they  had  stood  to  one  another  in  a 
relation  of  brotherhood,  and  now,  in  the  interval 
of  waiting,  they  aimed  at  preserving  this  relation. 
Little  by  little,  as  the  community  increased  in 
numbers  and  entered  on  its  larger  mission,  the 
original  aim  was  modified  in  various  directions 
but  was  never  consciously  abandoned.  The 
church  of  the  later  time  was  the  direct  outcome  of 
that  attempt  to  perpetuate  the  brotherhood  which 
had  been  instituted  by  Jesus. 

We  have  seen,  however,  that  from  the  first  a 
deeper  significance  was  involved  in  the  brother- 
hood of  the  disciples.  Jesus  himself  had  connected 
it  with  his  proclamation  of  the  new  age  when  all 

133 


134         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

distinctions  of  rank  and  class  and  family  were  to 
disappear.  The  old  order  was  presently  to  give 
place  to  another  in  which  the  will  of  God  would 
be  all  in  all  and  men  would  acknowledge  their 
kinship  as  the  children  of  God.  Jesus  called  his 
disciples  as  heirs  of  this  coming  kingdom.  His 
purpose,  in  all  his  intercourse  with  them,  was  to 
prepare  them  for  the  kingdom  by  moulding  their 
lives  into  harmony  with  its  conditions.  For  this 
reason  he  sought  to  inspire  them  with  the  feeling 
of  brotherhood.  They  were  to  think  of  themselves 
as  not  merely  comrades  in  the  same  cause  but  as 
the  first-fruits  of  a  new  and  more  perfect  type  of 
society.  In  their  relations  to  one  another  they 
were  to  exemplify  that  higher  law  of  love  and 
mutual  service  which  would  be  fulfilled  in  the 
kingdom  of  God. 

From  this  point  of  view  we  must  understand 
the  anxiety  of  the  church  during  the  whole  of  the 
early  period  to  maintain  the  feeling  among  its 
members  that  they  were  all  brethren.  It  is  easy, 
no  doubt,  to  adduce  many  seeming  analogies  from 
the  practice  of  other  religious  and  philosophical 
sects  of  the  time.  Men  who  had  grouped  them- 
selves together  round  the  name  of  the  same 
teacher  for  the  pursuit  of  a  common  ideal  naturally 
took  upon  them  the  title  of  brethren,  although 
its  use  in  many  cases  was  little  more  than  conven- 
tional. It  is  easy,  too,  to  show  how  the  circum- 
stances of  early   Christianity  were  sufficient  in 


LIFE  IN   THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    135 

themselves  to  compel  an  intimate  form  of  as- 
sociation. The  scattered  Christian  communities, 
struggling  for  their  very  existence  in  the  midst  of 
a  hostile  world,  could  only  survive  when  the  vir- 
tue of  (t)L\aBe\<t>La — love  and  helpfulness  within 
the  community — was  exalted  to  the  highest  place. 
This  need  for  a  fraternal  bond  was  never  more 
urgent  than  in  the  first  critical  years  at  Jeru- 
salem. But  when  all  allowance  is  made  for  the 
various  influences  which  may  have  strengthened 
the  idea  of  brotherhood,  we  have  to  seek  for 
its  origin  in  that  consciousness  of  their  voca- 
tion that  had  been  impressed  on  the  disciples  by 
Jesus  himself.  He  had  taught  them  that  they 
stood  for  the  new  order  of  things  in  which  all  in- 
equalities, all  division  between  man  and  man, 
would  disappear.  Their  relation  to  one  another 
even  now  was  to  anticipate  in  some  measure  that 
which  would  obtain  in  the  kingdom.  It  is  true 
that  Jesus  insisted  on  a  love  to  men  far  wider 
than  is  contemplated  by  the  "new  command- 
ment" of  the  Fourth  Gospel;  and  in  the  parable 
of  the  good  Samaritan  and  the  precepts  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  he  protested,  in  so  many 
words,  against  the  exclusive  ideals  which  were 
afterward  adopted  by  the  church.  Yet  the 
<j)L\aBeX<l){a  of  the  later  time  bad  its  roots  in  a 
conception  which  underlay  the  whole  teaching  of 
Jesus.  He  looked  for  a  new  society  governed  by  a 
new  spirit  of  love  and  service,  and  as  the  nucleus 


136         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

of  this  future  community  he  formed  a  band  of 
disciples  who  were  united  together  as  brethren. 

The  idea  of  brotherhood,  therefore,  was  in- 
volved in  the  very  nature  of  the  church  and  gov- 
erned the  life  of  its  members  from  the  beginning. 
It  would  not  have  been  surprising  if  the  disciples 
of  Jesus  had  been  led  to  isolate  themselves  in  a 
semi-monastic  union  similar  to  that  of  the  con- 
temporary Jewish  sect  of  the  Essenes.  Perhaps 
at  the  outset  there  was  a  real  danger  that  the 
Christian  movement  might  spend  itself  in  the 
formation  of  a  sterile  community  of  this  kind — a 
community  of  enthusiasts  secluded  from  the  out- 
ward world  and  content  with  their  own  fellow- 
ship. From  any  such  danger  the  church  was 
saved  by  two  circumstances.  On  the  one  hand, 
instead  of  remaining  in  Galilee,  where  they  might 
have  lived  as  a  self-contained  society,  the  dis- 
ciples were  impelled  to  settle  at  Jerusalem.  In 
the  great  city  they  could  only  realise  their  com- 
munal life  in  an  imperfect  fashion,  and  had  to 
break  into  separate  groups  even  for  the  pur- 
poses of  worship.  Whether  they  would  or  not, 
they  were  thrown  into  constant  intercourse  with 
the  people  around  them,  and  the  cause  which 
might  otherwise  have  been  confined  within  a  nar- 
row circle  was  forced  to  become  active  and  mis- 
sionary in  its  character.  On  the  other  hand,  they 
were  protected  still  more  effectually  by  the  exam- 
ple they  had  inherited  from  Jesus.     In  contrast 


LIFE  IN  THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    137 

with  John  the  Baptist,  he  had  come  eating  and 
drinking  and  had  purposely  avoided  all  appear- 
ance of  carrying  on  an  esoteric  mission.  He  had 
consistently  rebuked  the  Pharisaic  spirit  of  ex- 
clusiveness.  His  teaching,  with  all  its  commen- 
dation of  brotherly  love,  had  never  failed  to  lay 
the  chief  stress  on  the  larger  human  sympathies 
and  duties.  With  this  example  of  Jesus  fresh  in 
their  memories,  the  disciples  could  not  shut  them- 
selves up  to  a  life  of  secluded  fellowship.  As  the 
new  community  they  were  bound  by  special  ties 
to  one  another  and  stood  apart  from  the  world: 
yet  they  entertained  no  thought  of  a  formal 
separation.  It  was  by  thus  perfecting  itself  as  a 
brotherhood,  while  maintaining  its  place  in  the 
larger  organism,  that  the  church  grew  at  last  into 
a  world-wide  power. 

The  disciples,  then,  sought  to  perpetuate  that 
life  of  comradeship  into  which  they  had  been 
brought  by  Jesus,  and  according  to  the  book  of 
Acts  they  had  recourse  to  a  peculiar  institution  in 
order  to  give  full  effect  to  the  idea  that  they  were 
brethren.  Although  they  could  not  unite  in  a 
regular  monastic  society  and  lived  in  their  own 
homes,  scattered  throughout  the  city,  they  yet 
contributed  their  wealth  to  a  common  stock. 
Each  individual  was  supported  and  cared  for  by 
the  community  as  a  whole.  There  is  no  portion 
of  Luke's  narrative  which  has  been  more  often 


138         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

called  in  question  than  this  account  he  has  given 
us  of  the  communal  life  of  the  early  church.  It 
is  objected,  for  one  thing,  that  we  are  here  dealing 
not  with  facts  of  history  but  with  certain  char- 
acteristic ideas  of  Luke  himself.  Alike  in  the  Gos- 
pel and  the  Acts  his  mind  turns  constantly  to  the 
problem  of  wealth  and  poverty.  The  Christian 
message,  as  he  conceives  it,  is  pre-eminently  one 
of  social  justice — a  message  of  good  tidings  to  the 
poor  and  judgment  on  their  oppressors.  In  his 
description  of  the  early  communism,  it  is  argued, 
he  has  merely  set  forth  in  an  ideal  picture  what 
he  imagines  to  be  the  true  condition  of  a  Chris- 
tian society.  Again,  the  apparent  inconsistencies 
of  the  narrative  have  often  been  pointed  out,  and 
are  held  to  prove  that  Luke  has  misunderstood 
the  facts  or  purposely  coloured  them  in  order  to 
bear  out  his  theories.  In  spite  of  his  assertion 
that  no  man  called  anything  his  own  and  that 
all  wealth  was  divided  among  the  brethren  as  a 
matter  of  course,  he  yet  singles  out  for  special 
praise  the  conduct  of  Barnabas,  who  parted  with 
his  possessions.  Likewise  in  the  story  of  Ananias 
and  Sapphira,  it  is  implied  that  no  member  of  the 
church  was  under  obligation  to  throw  his  belong- 
ings into  the  common  stock.  Ananias  is  told 
explicitly  by  Peter  that  his  goods  were  his  own 
and  that  he  was  free  to  dispose  of  them  as  he 
thought  best.  His  offence  consisted  not  in  with- 
holding them  but  in  the  falsehood  whereby,  in  a 


LIFE  IN   THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    139 

spirit  of  vainglory,  he  had  professed  to  renounce 
everything  while  only  sacrificing  a  part.  In  view 
of  these  contradictions  in  the  narrative  it  has  been 
inferred  that  the  so-called  community  of  goods 
was  nothing  more  than  a  large  liberality  such  as 
naturally  accompanied  the  religious  enthusiasm. 

But  these  exceptions  w^hich  have  been  taken  to 
the  record  in  Acts  cannot  be  regarded  as  conclu- 
sive. (1)  It  is,  indeed,  true  that  Luke  lays  a 
noticeable  emphasis  on  the  social  aspects  of  the 
Gospel,  but  we  have  no  right  to  set  this  down  to 
some  mere  predilection  of  his  own.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  has  little  to  say  about  wealth  and  pov- 
erty in  the  later  chapters  of  Acts,  although  op- 
portunities were  certainly  not  wanting.  The  sub- 
ject appears  to  interest  him  only  in  those  parts  of 
his  work  where  he  is  concerned  with  the  teaching 
of  Jesus  and  the  life  of  the  primitive  church. 
From  this  it  may  be  fairly  concluded  that  he  is 
influenced  not  so  much  by  some  theory  of  his 
own  as  by  those  traditions  of  the  Palestinian 
church  on  which  he  has  drawn  so  largely.  A  be- 
lief persisted  in  the  Christian  communities  of 
Palestine  that  Jesus  had  denounced  the  sins  of 
wealth  and  taught  the  equality  of  rich  and  poor, 
and  we  have  no  valid  reason  to  doubt  that  this 
account  of  his  teaching  was  well  founded.  In 
later  Christianity,  by  a  process  we  can  easily 
understand,  his  gospel  of  equality  was  softened 
into  a  demand  for  generous  giving  and  due  con- 


140        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

sideration  of  the  poor.  But  among  the  native 
Palestinian  churches  the  true  drift  of  the  teaching 
was  not  thus  obscured,  and  Luke  has  preserved 
the  colouring  of  this  tradition. 

(2)  It  is  possible  to  make  too  much  of  the  ap- 
parent inconsistencies  in  Luke's  account  of  the 
primitive  communism.  From  his  singling  out  of 
special  instances  in  which  men  parted  with  their 
possessions,  we  may,  indeed,  infer  that  there  was 
no  formal  and  binding  rule.  The  sacrifice  of  pri- 
vate wealth  for  the  sake  of  the  brethren  was  a 
voluntary  one,  and  a  certain  credit  attached  to 
those  who  made  it.  This  was  in  keeping  with  the 
whole  character  of  the  early  church,  which  was 
not  an  organisation  imposing  a  regular  discipline 
on  its  members  but  a  free  community  of  the  Spirit. 
But,  although  the  surrender  was  voluntary  and  a 
few  devoted  men  are  specially  commemorated,  it 
does  not  follow  that  their  conduct  was  exceptional. 
For  the  most  part  the  disciples  were  poor  and 
their  contributions  to  the  common  fund  attracted 
little  attention,  since  they  probably  received  as 
much  as  they  gave.  It  was  different  when  men 
of  some  substance  threw  in  their  lot  with  the 
church  and,  like  Barnabas,  gave  up  their  posses- 
sions. Their  action  was  remembered  not  because 
it  was  an  exception  to  the  rule  but  because  it 
stood  out  as  a  signal  instance  of  its  observance. 
The  story  of  Ananias  is  in  this  connection  par- 
ticularly instructive.     Ananias  was  evidently  a 


LIFE  IN  THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    141 

man  of  wealth  as  compared  with  the  brethren  gen- 
erally, and  the  question  was  whether  he,  like  the 
others,  would  make  a  complete  surrender.  If  he 
gave  at  all  he  must  give  everything,  otherwise  he 
would  betray  the  principle  on  which  the  life  of 
the  church  had  been  founded.  This,  it  must  be 
observed,  is  the  point  which  gives  significance  to 
the  whole  story.  What  was  required  of  Ananias 
was  not  merely  his  liberality— for  this  he  was 
prepared  to  give — but  his  sacrifice  of  all  individ- 
ual possessions.  In  other  words,  the  practice 
of  charity  was  a  quite  secondary  consideration. 
The  aim  of  the  church  was  nothing  less  than  to 
establish  a  new  social  principle — that  of  commu- 
nity of  goods — and  in  reserving  part  of  his  wealth 
Ananias  had  committed  a  worse  offence  than  if  he 
had  withheld  it  altogether.  He  had  tried  by  an 
unworthy  compromise  to  destroy  an  essential  ele- 
ment in  the  new  order. 

How  far  the  incident  is  historical  we  cannot 
now  discover,  and  for  our  present  purpose  the 
question  is  of  minor  importance.  In  any  case  we 
have  here  transmitted  to  us  one  of  the  primitive 
legends  of  the  church,  reminiscent  of  the  early 
conditions  and  perhaps  of  a  conflict  to  which  they 
gave  rise.  The  original  aim — thus  we  may  read 
between  the  lines  of  the  story— was  to  insure  a 
real  community  of  goods.  Members  of  the  church 
were  expected  not  merely  to  exercise  a  mutual 
helpfulness  but  to  place  their  wealth  wholly  at 


142         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

the  disposal  of  the  brotherhood.  In  course  of 
time,  however,  as  numbers  increased  and  the 
first  ardour  began  to  wane,  this  ideal  became  ever 
harder  to  realise.  Converts  of  some  worldly 
standing  were  inclined  to  reason  that  they  suflS- 
ciently  discharged  their  duty  if  they  gave  liber- 
ally to  the  common  fund  and  that  they  need  not 
sacrifice  all.  This  attempt  to  substitute  mere 
beneficence  for  community  of  goods  did  not  suc- 
ceed without  a  struggle.  It  was  argued  by  the 
stricter  party  that  to  withhold  a  portion  was  a 
worse  sin  than  to  give  nothing,  and  the  story  of 
Ananias  and  Sapphira  may  have  grown  up  in  sup- 
port of  this  view.  Whatever  may  be  its  founda- 
tion in  fact,  it  bears  clear  traces,  in  its  present 
form,  of  some  such  polemical  intention.  The  real 
sin  of  Ananias  may  possibly  have  consisted  in 
this — that  he  was  the  first  to  rebel  against  an 
ideal  which  in  the  nature  of  things  was  imprac- 
ticable. His  view  of  the  social  obligations  of  a 
Christian  was  destined  before  long  to  supersede 
that  of  Peter,  but  we  need  not  wonder  at  the  op- 
position which  it  encountered.  The  change  from 
community  of  goods  to  mere  liberality  in  giving 
involved  a  radical  departure  from  the  original 
conception  of  the  church. 

There  is  no  reason,  then,  to  question  the  trust- 
worthiness of  this  part  of  the  narrative  of  Acts, 
Luke  may  have  heightened  the  picture  of  the 
communism  of  the  primitive  church,  but  the  facts 


LIFE  IN   THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    143 

may  well  have  come  to  him  from  an  authentic 
tradition.  On  purely  critical  grounds,  there  is  no 
section  of  his  history  which  has  better  claims  to 
acceptance  than  that  which  deals  with  the  com- 
munity of  goods.  The  institution  is  described  in 
two  separate  passages  (Acts  2  :  44-46;  4  :  34/.), 
which  bear  all  the  marks  of  being  fragments  of  two 
different  sources.  It  was  attested,  therefore,  by 
both  the  documents  on  which  Luke  appears  to 
have  chiefly  drawn  for  his  knowledge  of  the  ear- 
liest days. 

What  was  the  meaning  of  this  communism? 
No  doubt  the  practice  of  it  was  rendered  more 
feasible  by  the  expectation  of  an  almost  immedi- 
ate coming  of  the  kingdom.  Within  an  interval 
that  might  be  measured  by  days  or  weeks  the 
present  order  of  things  would  come  to  an  end, 
and  earthly  possessions  would  cease  to  have  any 
value.  No  better  use  could  be  made  of  them  for 
the  short  time  that  remained  than  to  share  them 
with  the  brethren,  so  that  all  might  wait  for  the 
return  of  the  Lord  without  worldly  distraction. 
But  we  cannot  account  in  this  manner  for  the  re- 
quirement— belonging,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the  es- 
sence of  the  institution— that  those  who  gave  up 
their  wealth  must  withhold  nothing.  It  seems 
necessary  to  seek  for  the  true  explanation  along 
two  lines:  First,  it  was  demanded  of  all  who 
identified  themselves  with  the  kingdom  that  they 
should  make  a  solemn  renunciation  of  everything 


144         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

that  belonged  to  the  old  life.  Jesus  himself  had 
called  for  this  complete  surrender,  and  his  rule 
was  still  insisted  on.  It  was  felt  that,  apart  from 
any  benefit  which  the  wealth  might  bring  to 
others,  the  sacrifice  of  it  had  in  itself  a  religious 
value,  and  an  attempt  to  compromise,  as  Peter 
impressed  on  Ananias,  was  a  sin  against  the-iHoly 
Spirit.  But  again,  this  renunciation,  necessary 
for  those  who  professed  the  new  faith,  was  brought 
into  service  to  the  idea  of  brotherhood.  The 
church  was  representative  of  the  new  order,  in 
which  all  would  be  equal  and  would  be  animated 
by  a  single  spirit  of  love  and  devotion.  In  that 
society  of  the  future  there  could  be  no  such  thing 
as  individual  possession,  and  the  aim  of  the  church 
was  to  realise  in  its  life  now  the  law  of  the  king- 
dom. Thus  the  community  of  goods  was  no  ac- 
cident of  primitive  custom,  due  to  the  fact  that 
the  disciples  were  still  a  little  group  of  comrades 
who  lived  together.  It  was  the  immediate  out- 
come of  the  church's  consciousness  of  its  voca- 
tion. The  heirs  of  the  kingdom  had  broken  with 
the  ordinances  of  this  world,  in  which  each  man 
held  by  his  own,  and  had  conformed  themselves 
to  the  law  of  the  new  age,  when  all  would  be 
brethren. 

In  the  earliest  form  of  government  and  admin- 
istration we  may  discern  a  similar  effort  to  realise 
in  practice  the  inward  idea  of  the  church.    The 


LIFE  IN   THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY   145 

facts,  however,  as  given  by  Luke  are  meagre  at 
the  best  and  cannot  be  accepted  without  careful 
sifting.  He  wrote  at  a  time  when  the  church  had 
attained  to  a  certain  measure  of  organisation,  in 
the  light  of  which  he  reconstructs  the  primitive 
conditions.  The  little  company  of  believers,  held 
together  by  a  common  enthusiasm,  becomes  for 
him  a  regular  society  with  stated  officers  and  or- 
dinances like  the  Pauline  communities  of  his  own 
day.  He  writes,  moreover,  under  the  influence  of 
his  theory  as  to  the  development  of  the  Christian 
mission.  The  twelve  Apostles  are  regarded  as  a 
sort  of  sacred  college  to  which  the  task  of  the 
propagation  of  the  gospel  has  been  formally  in- 
trusted. All  initiative  in  the  life  of  the  church 
is  vested  in  the  twelve;  and  if  they  adopt  col- 
leagues to  assist  them  in  practical  affairs  it  is 
only  that  they  may  keep  themselves  more  free 
for  their  higher  missionary  duties.  At  the  head 
of  the  twelve  stands  Peter.  He  acts  as  president 
in  all  deliberations,  and  exercises  a  general  au- 
thority in  the  concerns  of  the  church. 

But  while  he  thus  adapts  the  facts  to  a  given 
theory,  Luke  is  sufficiently  faithful  to  his  sources 
to  afford  us  at  least  some  glimpses  into  the  true 
nature  of  the  primitive  organisation.  It  is  evi- 
dent, on  his  own  showing,  that  the  church  recog- 
nised no  official  leadership.  On  the  contrary, 
pains  were  taken  to  insure  that  all  the  members 
should  rank  as  equal  and  be  admitted  to  their 


146         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

share  in  the  direction  of  the  common  life.  No 
matter  of  importance  was  decided  without  a 
meeting  of  the  whole  community.  These  as- 
semblies must  have  been  increasingly  difficult  to 
convene  as  the  number  of  the  converts  grew,  but 
no  decision  was  valid  until  it  had  thus  received 
the  general  consent.  In  view  of  this  power  exer- 
cised by  the  assembly,  the  primitive  church  has 
sometimes  been  described  as  a  pure  democracy, 
and  the  description  is  a  just  one  in  so  far  as  we 
must  reckon,  here  as  elsewhere,  with  the  idea  of 
brotherhood.  But  the  authority  to  which  the 
church  submitted  was  not  in  the  last  resort  that 
of  the  assembly,  or  of  some  leader  or  body  of 
leaders,  but  that  of  the  living  Spirit.  Sometimes 
the  will  of  the  Spirit  was  ascertained  by  the  cast- 
ing of  lots  in  the  presence  of  the  assembly.  More 
usually  it  revealed  itself  in  the  process  of  earnest 
deliberation,  after  prayer  had  been  offered  for  the 
guidance  of  the  higher  power.  Certain  individual 
men  were  acknowledged  to  be  ''full  of  the  Spirit," 
and  to  the  counsels  of  such  men  a  predominant 
weight  was  given.  But  obedience  was  rendered 
not  to  the  men  but  to  the  Spirit  that  uttered  itself 
through  them;  and  the  Spirit,  while  it  made  use 
of  special  instruments,  was  the  possession  of  the 
whole  community.  Before  any  deliverance  could 
be  accepted  as  from  the  Spirit,  it  had  to  commend 
itself  to  the  mind  and  conscience  of  all. 

What,  then,  was  the  position  occupied  by  the 


LIFE  IN  THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    147 

twelve  in  this  self-governing  community?  It  is 
evident  that  they  were  invested  with  no  formal 
authority,  as  Luke  would  appear  to  suggest. 
That  a  special  consideration  should  attach  to 
them  was  only  natural,  for  they  were  not  only  the 
chosen  companions  of  Jesus  but  the  representa- 
tives of  the  church  in  its  character  of  the  new 
Israel.'  The  first  action  of  the  community,  on  its 
reassembling  at  Jerusalem,  was  to  fill  the  vacant 
place  of  Judas  so  that  the  significant  number  of 
twelve  might  be  again  complete.  But  while  they 
thus  enjoyed  a  certain  precedence,  it  rested  wholly 
on  sentiment  and  carried  with  it  no  prerogative. 
Concerning  all  of  them,  except  two  or  three,  the 
record  is  entirely  silent,  from  which  we  may  gather 
that  they  remained  in  the  background,  exercising 
little  or  no  influence  in  the  counsels  of  the  church. 
The  prestige  belonging  to  the  original  twelve  did 
not  entitle  to  a  place  of  leadership  unless  it  was 
conjoined  with  special  gifts  of  personality. 

The  belief  that  the  Twelve  formed  an  inner 
group  which  directed  the  life  of  the  community  is 
no  doubt  due  in  part  to  the  later  confusion  be- 
tween the  personal  disciples  of  Jesus  and  the 
Apostles.  At  what  time  the  word  "Apostle" 
came  into  use  we  cannot  tell.  Paul  employs  it  in 
connection  with  one  of  the  appearances  of  the 
risen  Christ,  but  most  probably  he  avails  himself 
by  anticipation  of  the  convenient  term  in  order 
to  include  James  and  other  notable  disciples  with 


148         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

the  twelve.  From  the  literal  meaning  of  the  word 
we  should  naturally  infer  that  it  was  first  adopted 
when  the  mission  had  commenced  and  denoted 
those  who  were  set  apart  for  missionary  work. 
For  such  work  the  highest  kind  of  spiritual  en- 
dowment was  necessary,  and  the  men  chosen 
would  be  those  who  stood  first  in  the  estimation 
of  the  church.  But  whatever  may  have  been  the 
origin  of  the  name  it  was  evidently  not  restricted 
to  the  twelve.  They  may  have  ranked  as  Apos- 
tles by  a  sort  of  prescriptive  right,  but  others  took 
their  place  beside  them  or  above  them.  From 
incidental  notices  in  PauFs  writings  alone*  it  is 
possible  to  draw  up  a  considerable  list  of  "apos- 
tles** who  were  not  numbered  with  the  twelve. 
So  far  as  there  was  a  group  of  leaders  in  the  church, 
it  consisted  of  these  apostles,  but  their  authority 
was  not  formal  or  oflficial.  They  were  simply  the 
men  who  were  marked  out  by  an  exceptional  gift 
of  the  Spirit  for  work  of  peculiar  importance.  In 
accepting  their  leadership  the  church  in  no  way 
sacrificed  its  independence,  for  it  was  conscious 
all  the  time  of  obeying  the  Spirit,  of  which  they 
were  the  instruments. 

During  the  first  years  at  Jerusalem  a  unique 
position  was  occupied  by  Peter.  A  subsequent 
age  could  only  explain  his  pre-eminence  on  the 
ground  that  Jesus  himself  had  commissioned  him 

*  Cf.  Gal.  1  :  19;  I  Cor.  9:6;  II  Cor.  8  :  23;  Romans 
16  :  7;  I  Cor.  12  :  28. 


LIFE  IN  THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    149 

to  take  the  place  of  overseer  in  his  church.*  Of 
such  a  commission,  however,  the  earlier  history 
knows  nothing.  It  represents  Peter  as  at  first 
the  leader  among  the  Apostles,  and  then  as  gradu- 
ally declining  in  influence  until  he  entirely  dis- 
appears behind  James,  on  the  one  hand,  and  Paul, 
on  the  other.  Indeed,  the  case  of  Peter  illus- 
trates for  us  in  the  most  striking  fashion  the  true 
nature  of  the  primitive  control.  Peter  held  au- 
thority not  by  formal  appointment  or  as  president 
of  the  twelve  but  in  virtue  of  his  personal  gift, 
and  he  retained  it  only  so  long  as  that  gift  was 
indispensable.  Without  any  outstanding  qual- 
ities of  will  or  intellect  he  possessed  in  the  fullest 
measure  that  enthusiastic  faith  which  is  the  one 
thing  needful  at  the  beginning  of  a  great  move- 
ment. As  the  most  ardent  of  the  disciples,  Peter 
assumed  the  leadership,  but  it  was  never  allowed 
to  harden  into  a  settled  authority.  As  the  con- 
ditions changed,  men  of  other  gifts  came  forward 
and  directed  the  life  of  the  church.  Its  loyalty 
was  pledged  to  no  individual  leader,  but  only  to 
the  Spirit  which  was  ever  revealing  its  will  by  a 
new  voice. 

Thus,  in  the  government  of  the  church,  as  in  the 
community  of  goods,  an  endeavour  was  made  to 
give  practical  effect  to  the  idea  of  brotherhood. 
Jesus  himself  had  established  no  order  of  prece- 
dence in  his  band  of  disciples,  but  had  declared 
*  Matt.  16  :  18,  19. 


150         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

that  the  whole  system  of  ranks  and  dignities  be- 
longed to  the  former  age  and  must  now  pass  away. 
On  this  principle  the  new  society  based  itself. 
It  claimed  to  be  a  brotherhood  in  which  the  law 
of  equality  that  would  hold  good  in  the  kingdom 
of  God  was  already  realised  and  which  was  gov- 
erned solely  by  the  Spirit.  Inevitably  there  were 
leaders,  but  they  held  no  stated  office.  They  were 
agents  of  the  Spirit,  which  was  supposed  to  reside 
in  the  whole  church,  although  it  might  utter  its 
will  by  chosen  members.  At  best,  the  leaders 
could  only  offer  counsel  and  suggestion.  Before 
their  word  was  valid  it  had  to  commend  itself  to 
all  the  brethren,  met  in  assembly,  as  the  authentic 
utterance  of  the  Spirit.  In  the  first  ardent  days, 
when  "the  multitude  of  those  who  believed  were 
of  one  heart  and  one  mind,"  this  ideal  of  a  brother- 
hood was  capable  of  at  least  a  partial  fulfilment. 
The  lack  of  a  regular  organisation  was  more  than 
made  up  by  the  spontaneous  zeal  with  which  all 
devoted  themselves  to  the  common  cause.  But 
in  the  nature  of  things  the  early  conditions  could 
not  last.  We  learn  in  the  book  of  Acts  how,  as 
the  society  became  larger  and  more  heterogeneous, 
there  arose  disputes  and  jealousies  which  could  not 
be  dealt  with  except  by  some  kind  of  an  official 
system.  Indeed,  the  very  effort  to  maintain  a 
communal  principle  could  only  result  in  the  defeat 
of  its  own  object.  It  became  more  and  more 
evident  that  if  equal  privileges  were  to  be  shared 


LIFE  IN  THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    151 

by  all  they  must  be  safeguarded  by  a  fixed  order 
of  administration. 

Thus  far  the  attempt  to  anticipate  the  condi- 
tions of  the  kingdom  was  an  impracticable  one 
and  had  to  be  abandoned  after  a  brief  experiment. 
But  there  was  another  and  more  fruitful  result  of 
that  endeavour  to  mould  the  church  in  accordance 
with  its  inward  idea.  As  the  heirs  of  the  future 
kingdom  the  disciples  were  committed  to  a  new 
rule  of  life.  By  their  mode  of  thought  and  action, 
and  their  intercourse  with  one  another  and  the 
world  around  them,  they  were  required  to  exem- 
plify that  higher  law  which  would  obtain  in  the 
new  age. 

We  do  an  injustice  to  early  Christianity  and 
fail  to  account  for  its  marvellous  achievement 
when  we  conceive  of  it  merely  as  an  enthusiasm, 
inspired  by  the  hope  of  a  great  consummation  in 
the  near  future.  Its  true  character  is  better  de- 
scribed by  the  expressive  name,  commonly  ap- 
plied to  it  in  the  first  age,  of  "the  way''— the  new 
method  of  life.  Jesus  himself  had  come  forward 
in  his  lifetime  with  an  ethical  message.  To  the 
very  end  the  mass  of  the  people  knew  nothing  of 
his  Messianic  claim,  but  reverenced  him  as  a 
"prophet"  who  taught  a  better  righteousness 
than  that  of  the  scribes  and  Pharisees.  The  task 
devolved  on  his  disciples  not  only  of  asserting 
his  Messiahship  but  of  continuing  his  work  as  a 


152         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

prophet.  Nothing  is  more  remarkable  in  the 
Epistles  of  Paul  than  the  large  space  which  is 
devoted  to  purely  ethical  precepts.  His  letters 
in  this  respect,  as  he  himself  indicates,  reflected 
his  oral  teaching,  and  the  practice  of  Paul  was 
modelled  on  that  of  the  missionaries  generally. 
They  treated  the  moral  interest  as  a  fundamental 
one,  and  amidst  all  theological  differences  they 
continued  to  enforce  the  same  broad  principles  of 
morality.  It  was  this  ethical  consistency  more 
than  anything  else  that  preserved  the  unity  of 
the  church  through  all  the  changes  and  contro- 
versies of  the  first  century. 

The  teaching  of  Jesus  had  been  chiefly  concerned 
with  the  moral  life;  yet  we  mistake  its  character 
when  we  think  of  him  in  some  vague  sense  as  an 
ethical  teacher.  The  new  righteousness  which  he 
taught  had  a  direct  relation  to  his  central  message 
of  the  kingdom  of  God.  In  view  of  the  approach- 
ing advent  of  the  kingdom  he  sought  to  effect  in 
men  a  "change  of  mind,"  of  such  a  nature  that 
they  should  be  inwardly  assimilated  to  the  new 
order.  The  commandments  given  "to  them  of 
old  time"  were  intended  only  for  the  present  age, 
and  in  place  of  them  he  revealed  the  higher  rule 
of  obedience  that  would  hold  good  in  the  great 
future.  It  is  from  this  point  of  view  alone  that 
we  can  rightly  understand  the  morality  of  Jesus. 
Many  of  his  precepts,  no  doubt,  have  reference 
to  conditions  that  would  pass  away  with  the 


LIFE  IN  THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    153 

present  age,  and  it  is  not  diiOficult,  by  a  literal  in- 
terpretation, to  dissolve  them  into  a  mere  "in- 
terim ethic."  But  we  have  to  regard  them  as  so 
many  applications  to  existing  conditions  of  cer- 
tain new  principles  of  absolute  moral  validity. 
By  the  following  out  of  these  principles  men 
could  anticipate  the  law  of  the  kingdom  and  do 
God's  will  on  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaven. 

When  we  apprehend  this  connection  between 
the  ethical  teaching  of  Jesus  and  his  message  of 
the  kingdom  we  can  discern  the  motive  which 
quickened  the  early  Christian  morality.  Since 
the  church  was  the  community  of  the  new  age, 
its  members  were  required  to  exhibit  in  themselves 
a  new  type  of  character  answering  to  their  voca- 
tion. They  had  part  in  the  kingdom  only  in  so 
far  as  their  lives  were  ordered  in  strict  accordance 
with  that  higher  law  which  would  prevail  in  it. 
And  for  their  knowledge  of  this  law  they  were 
dependent  on  the  precepts  that  had  been  laid 
down  by  Jesus.  We  are  sometimes  asked  to  be- 
lieve that  in  the  fervour  of  the  apocalyptic  hope 
the  actual  teaching  of  Jesus  fell  into  the  back- 
ground and  has  only  been  preserved  to  us  by  a 
fortunate  accident.  But  the  truth  is  that  the 
hope  invested  the  teaching  with  an  urgent  sig- 
nificance. Jesus,  who  was  now  the  exalted  Lord, 
had  himself  marked  out  the  way  for  his  people. 
If  they  would  participate  in  the  kingdom,  which 
was  already  on  the  point  of  dawning,  they  must 


154         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

know  and  accept  its  ordinances  as  he  had  taught 
them. 

In  the  early  chapters  of  Acts  nothing  is  told 
us  in  detail  of  the  endeavour  to  carry  into  prac- 
tice the  moral  ideals  of  Jesus.  The  task  which 
the  writer  sets  himself  is  to  record  the  more 
memorable  incidents,  and  he  takes  for  granted, 
as  historians  are  wont  to  do,  the  quiet  Christian 
activity  which  was  all  the  time  the  chief  business 
of  the  church.  We  are  reminded,  however,  in  one 
striking  and  comprehensive  verse  that  along  with 
all  the  outward  progress  there  was  a  building  up 
of  the  church  from  within.  *'They  continued  to 
adhere  stedfastly  to  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles 
and  the  fellowship,  to  the  breaking  of  bread  and 
the  prayers"  (Acts  2  :  42).  Four  elements  of  the 
church's  life  are  here  singled  out  as  characteristic: 
obedience  to  a  teaching  imparted  by  the  Apostles, 
association  in  a  brotherhood,  participation  in  a 
common  meal,  and  meetings  for  worship.  What 
is  implied  in  that  "persistence  in  the  Apostles' 
teaching"  which  is  here  given  the  foremost 
place? 

Several  modern  writers,  of  whom  A.  Seeberg* 
is  the  chief  representative,  have  taken  the  brief 
statement  in  Acts  as  the  corner-stone  of  an  elabo- 
rate theory.  Reasoning  from  the  well-known  fact 
that  toward  the  end  of  the  first  century  the  can- 

*  "Der  Katechismus  des  Urchristentums " — the  first  of  a 
series  of  books  in  support  of  the  same  thesis. 


LIFE  IN   THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    155 

didates  for  baptism  were  regularly  instructed  in 
the  main  outlines  of  Christian  belief  and  morality, 
they  have  concluded  that  this  custom  was  in  force 
from  the  earliest  days.  The  Apostles  drew  up  a 
formula  or  catechism — the  precursor  of  the  later 
"Didache" — which  became  the  norm  of  all  Chris- 
tian teaching  and  has  left  its  traces  everywhere 
in  the  New  Testament.  If  this  theory  could  be 
established  all  previous  conceptions  of  the  early 
development  would  have  to  undergo  a  radical 
revision,  but  the  arguments  against  it  seem  to  be 
decisive.  It  is  hardly  conceivable  that  in  the  first 
days  of  eager  spontaneous  faith  the  new  beliefs 
were  set  down  in  a  stereotyped  form.  All  our 
evidence  points  rather  to  a  condition  of  things  in 
which  the  beliefs  themselves  were  indeterminate 
and  the  mere  expression  of  them  could  be  varied 
at  will.  The  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Beatitudes,  the 
formulae  connected  with  the  supper,  these  were 
the  elements  of  Christian  tradition  which  would 
most  naturally  have  become  fixed,  and  yet  they 
have  been  transmitted  to  us  in  widely  different 
versions.  Until  the  conflict  with  heresy  which 
began  near  the  close  of  the  century,  the  church 
refused  to  bind  itself  to  any  defined  standards. 
It  was  this  that  opened  the  door  to  controversy 
and  division.  It  was  this,  too,  that  made  possible 
the  freedom  and  sincerity  and  the  many-sided 
development  which  give  a  unique  character  to 
the  thinking  of  the  first  age.     But  the  notice  in 


156        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Acts  is  in  itself  sufficiently  suggestive  without 
burdening  it  with  fanciful  interpretations.  It  in- 
forms us  that  from  the  very  outset  an  important 
place  was  assigned  to  the  work  of  teaching;  that 
is,  to  some  kind  of  regular  instruction  as  distin- 
guished from  prophetic  appeal.  We  gather  from 
it,  moreover,  that  this  teaching  imparted  by  the 
Apostles  was  mainly  concerned  with  the  direction 
of  conduct.  The  members  of  the  church  "ad- 
hered stedfastly"  to  the  instruction  given  them, 
making  it  their  aim  to  follow  it  out  faithfully  in 
their  daily  lives. 

There  is  good  reason  to  believe — indeed,  this 
conclusion  is  almost  forced  upon  us — that  the 
instructions  of  the  Apostles  were  based  on  the 
precepts  laid  down  by  Jesus.  As  the  Jewish 
teachers  communicated  a  tradition  which  they 
had  themselves  acquired  from  a  master,  so  the 
disciples  of  Jesus  transmitted  his  words  as  they 
had  heard  them.  The  reference  in  Acts,  as  we 
have  seen,  implies  a  rule  of  practice  rather  than 
of  belief,  and  the  ordinary  work  of  moral  instruc- 
tion was  already  undertaken  by  the  synagogue. 
The  only  teaching  which  the  Apostles  were  quali- 
fied to  impart  was  that  of  the  new  righteousness 
as  it  had  been  revealed  by  Jesus.  Here,  as  most 
scholars  would  now  admit,  we  are  to  look  for  the 
ultimate  basis  of  our  existing  Gospels.  No  re- 
sult of  New  Testament  criticism  is  more  certain 
than  that  Luke  and  Matthew  had  access  to  a 


LIFE  IN   THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    157 

collection  of  the  sayings  of  Jesus,  which  they 
interwove  with  the  narrative  of  Mark.  The  view 
is  now  widely  accepted  that  this  collection  was 
older  than  the  narrative,  but  at  whatever  date  it 
was  compiled  it  had  manifestly  passed  through 
a  number  of  expansions  and  revisions  before  it 
reached  the  hands  of  the  evangelists.  We  may 
conclude  that  a  process  had  begun,  even  in  the 
earliest  days,  of  collecting  the  Lord's  sayings  and 
grouping  them  in  such  a  manner  that  they  might 
be  easily  remembered  and  transmitted.  That  all 
converts  were  instructed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  in 
these  maxims  of  Jesus  may  be  inferred  from  the 
Epistles  of  Paul  as  well  as  from  the  Gospels. 
Apart  from  the  direct  echoes  of  Gospel  sayings, 
which  can  be  traced  in  Paul — and  these  are  far 
more  numerous  than  many  critics  have  been  will- 
ing to  grant — we  have  to  consider  the  whole  drift 
and  content  of  his  ethical  teaching.  He  is  able 
to  assume  that  the  principles  of  Christian  moral- 
ity are  already  known  to  his  readers.  In  the  light 
of  this  knowledge  which  they  have  received  he 
discusses  their  difficulties  and  calls  on  them  to 
recognise  new  duties  and  obligations.  It  is  evi- 
dent that  Paul,  in  his  missionary  work,  was  con- 
cerned not  merely  with  the  proclamation  of  certain 
beUefs  but  with  the  moulding  of  that  type  of 
character  which  was  required  in  Christian  men. 
In  this  part  of  his  work,  which  he  probably  re- 
garded as  the  most  valuable,  he  followed  the  path 


158         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

marked  out  by  Jesus.  For  him,  as  for  all  the 
missionaries,  Christianity  was  inseparable  from 
that  rule  of  life  which  was  handed  down  in  the 
teaching  of  the  first  Apostles. 

The  statement  in  the  book  of  Acts,  therefore, 
is  confirmed  and  illustrated  by  the  evidence  which 
is  afforded  us  elsewhere  in  the  New  Testament. 
The  Apostles  were  the  missionaries  of  the  king- 
dom, and  sought  to  awaken  that  faith  in  the  risen 
Christ  through  which  alone  it  could  be  entered. 
But  along  with  this  primary  duty  they  were  re- 
sponsible for  another  hardly  less  important.  They 
continued  the  work  of  Jesus  as  a  moral  teacher, 
imparting  to  their  converts  a  knowledge  of  his 
precepts  and  shaping  the  life  of  the  community 
in  accordance  with  them.  To  the  mind  of  the 
primitive  church  these  two  duties  were  bound  up 
together.  By  the  act  of  faith  the  convert  identi- 
fied himself  with  the  new  order  and  came  hence- 
forth within  the  sphere  of  its  jurisdiction.  But  he 
required  to  learn  the  nature  of  his  new  obligations. 
He  could  have  no  true  part  in  the  future  kingdom 
unless  he  possessed  in  himself  the  will  and  dis- 
position that  were  characteristic  of  God's  people. 
Thus  it  was  necessary  that  the  preaching  of  the 
Christian  message  should  be  accompanied  by  a 
training  in  the  Christian  life,  and  this  could  only 
be  based  on  the  commandments  of  Jesus.  His 
words  were  treasured  and  handed  down  as  reveal- 
ing the  nature  of  that  new  righteousness  which 


LIFE  IN   THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    159 

belonged  to  the  kingdom.  It  is,  indeed,  probable, 
as  we  may  gather  from  Paul's  references  to  the 
tradition,  that  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles  was 
not  exclusively  ethical.  Sayings  of  Jesus  were 
transmitted  which  kept  alive  the  hope  of  the 
Parousia  and  seemed  to  throw  light  upon  its 
mysteries.  Instruction  was  given  in  central  facts 
of  the  Gospel  history,  such  as  the  institution  of 
the  supper  and  the  appearances  of  the  risen  Lord. 
Stray  utterances  were  preserved  from  which  it 
was  possible  to  glean  directions  for  worship  and 
administration  and  for  the  conduct  of  the  mis- 
sion, and  these  acquired  an  increasing  value  as 
time  went  on.  But  the  primary  aim  of  the  Apos- 
tles was  that  of  educating  their  converts  in  the 
principles  of  Christian  morality.  By  enforcing 
the  precepts  of  Jesus  they  endeavoured,  as  he 
himself  had  done,  to  build  up  a  community  that 
should  be  inwardly  conformed  to  the  life  of  the 
kingdom. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  century  the  idea  took 
root  in  the  church,  and  developed  in  many  unfore- 
seen directions,  that  Christianity  was  nothing  else 
than  a  "new  law."  Jesus  was  regarded  as  a 
greater  Moses,  who  legislated  for  the  new  Israel, 
and  his  teaching  was  formulated  as  a  series  of 
binding  enactments.  The  beginnings  of  this  idea 
may  possibly  be  traced  in  Matthew's  Gospel, 
where  the  cardinal  principles  of  the  Christian 
ethic  are  gathered  up  in  a  single  code,  delivered 


160        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

from  a  mountain,  like  the  Mosaic  Law.  To  the 
primitive  age  such  a  conception  of  the  Lord's 
teaching  was  entirely  foreign,  and  it  may  be  set 
down  to  the  relapse  into  a  Judaistic  habit  of 
mind,  after  the  church  had  become  organised  as 
an  institution.  It  was  not  a  new  law  that  Jesus 
had  inaugurated,  but  a  new  way.  Morality  had 
been  based  hitherto  on  a  number  of  command- 
ments outwardly  imposed,  now  it  was  identified 
with  an  inward  temper — a  will  brought  into  har- 
mony with  the  will  of  God.  And  in  this  sense  the 
teaching  of  Jesus  was  authoritative  for  his  dis- 
ciples. By  obedience  to  it  they  sought  to  realise 
that  type  of  character  which  would  inherit  the 
kingdom,  and  of  which  Jesus  himself  had  been 
the  supreme  example.  The  precepts  of  Jesus 
did  not  exhaust  the  requirements  of  the  Christian 
life.  As  we  know  from  the  New  Testament  writ- 
ings, they  were  expanded  and  supplemented  by 
successive  teachers  and  were  applied  in  new  lan- 
guage to  changed  conditions.  None  the  less  they 
remained  normative  for  the  later  ethical  develop- 
ment. They  supplied  the  constant  factor,  in 
virtue  of  which  our  religion  has  maintained  its 
identity  amidst  all  the  changes  of  twenty  cen- 
turies. Before  a  generation  had  passed  the  the- 
ology of  the  church  had  shaped  for  itself  many 
different  channels;  its  institutions  had  been  re- 
modelled; its  original  forms  of  worship  had  given 
place  to  others.    But  the  Christian  morality  was 


LIFE  IN  THE  PRIMITIVE  COMMUNITY    161 

determined,  once  and  for  ever,  by  the  teaching  of 
Jesus. 

It  was  all-important  for  the  future  of  Chris- 
tianity that  its  message  of  salvation  was  con- 
joined from  the  first  with  an  ethical  discipline. 
If  it  had  stood  for  nothing  more  than  the  apoca- 
lyptic hope,  the  church  might  have  lasted  through 
a  brief  period  of  feverish  life  and  then  have 
broken  to  pieces  as  the  fulfilment  of  its  dreams 
became  ever  more  remote  and  shadowy.  It  had 
come  into  being,  however,  not  only  as  a  society  of 
enthusiasts,  waiting  for  a  great  crisis,  but  as  an 
ethical  brotherhood  intent  on  obeying  the  will  of 
God  according  to  the  way  marked  out  by  Jesus. 
Amidst  all  that  was  visionary  and  extravagant  in 
its  hopes,  it  thus  secured  its  hold  on  realities. 
The  ardour  which  would  otherwise  have  spent 
itself  in  a  vain  enthusiasm  was  transformed  into 
the  motive  power  for  moral  endeavour  and  vic- 
tory. And  through  its  fidelity  to  the  ethical  de- 
mands of  Jesus  the  church  advanced  to  a  truer 
and  larger  comprehension  of  his  message  of  the 
kingdom.  Under  the  apocalyptic  forms  which  he 
took  over  from  the  thought  of  his  time,  he  had  set 
forth  his  ideal  of  a  higher  righteousness  and  a 
life  of  perfect  fellowship  with  God.  By  doing  his 
will  his  disciples  learned  to  know  of  his  doctrine. 
They  were  disappointed  in  their  earlier  hopes 
only  to  grow  conscious  of  the  true  revelation 
which  had  been  given  in  Jesus  Christ. 


LECTURE  VII 

BAPTISM 

From  its  earliest  days  the  church  possessed 
the  two  ordinances  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's 
Supper,  and  if  we  could  ascertain  their  original 
import  we  should  have  the  key  to  the  whole 
problem  of  primitive  Christianity.  But  here, 
perhaps  more  than  anywhere  else,  we  need  to  dis- 
tinguish carefully  between  earlier  and  later  con- 
ceptions. On  its  doctrinal  side  a  religion  holds] 
fast  to  its  essential  principles,  although  the  forms 
in  which  they  express  themselves  are  constantly 
changed.  But  on  its  ritual  side  the  process  is 
almost  always  reversed.  The  forms  of  primitive 
rites  are  maintained  with  the  most  jealous  te- 
nacity, but  they  are  invested  with  new  meanings. 
As  symbolical  actions  they  lend  themselves  to  a 
wide  variety  of  interpretation  and  afford  an  en- 
trance to  ideas  which  are  quite  alien  to  the  orig- 
inal worship.  This,  as  all  scholars  would  now  be 
willing  to  admit,  has  been  the  history  of  the  two 
Christian  sacraments.  Even  within  the  first 
generation  they  began  to  acquire  new  values, 
although  to  all  appearance  they  remained  the 
162 


BAPTISM  163 

same.  To  the  gentile  mind  religion  was  asso- 
ciated with  "mysteries,"  with  ritual  acts  which 
were  supposed  to  effect  certain  inward  changes; 
and  as  Christianity  passed  into  the  gentile  world 
its  rites  assumed  this  character.  Their  meaning 
henceforth  was  overlaid  with  mystical  ideas  by 
which  it  was  obscured  or  entirely  cancelled. 

The  task  of  understanding  these  ordinances  as 
they  were  observed  in  the  primitive  church  is 
thus  a  peculiarly  difficult  one,  for  the  after-de- 
velopments which  elsewhere  help  to  elucidate 
the  initial  beliefs  are  here  a  source  of  confusion. 
Paul  himself  has  little  assistance  to  offer  us  in 
the  attempt  to  retrace  the  earlier  tradition.  With 
his  doctrine  of  the  sacraments  we  enter  precisely 
that  domain  of  his  thought  in  which  he  is  least 
careful  to  preserve  a  continuity  with  the  previous 
teaching  of  the  church.  Sometimes  he  appears 
to  explain  them  after  the  analogy  of  pagan  rites 
in  order  to  make  certain  aspects  of  truth  more  in- 
telligible to  his  gentile  readers.  Sometimes  he 
avails  himself  of  their  imagery  and  suggestion  for 
the  purpose  of  enforcing  the  characteristic  ideas 
of  his  own  theology.  In  no  case  can  we  be  alto- 
gether sure  that  the  view  represented  by  Paul 
has  a  real  affinity  with  that  of  the  older  Apostles, 

Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  the  two 
ritual  observances  in  Christian  worship,  came  at 
an  early  time  to  be  linked  together  and  to  be 


164         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

construed  in  the  light  of  common  ideas.  Paul,  in 
a  well-known  passage  of  I  Corinthians,*  seems  to 
assume  a  necessary  connection  between  them,  and 
makes  out  by  means  of  a  fanciful  exegesis  that 
they  both  had  their  counterparts  in  God's  dealings 
with  his  people  in  the  wilderness.  In  the  Johan- 
nine  writings  they  appear  as  complementary  to 
each  other — typifying,  in  some  mysterious  fash- 
ion, the  two  aspects  of  the  revelation  in  Christ.f 
It  was  inevitable  that  the  two  ordinances  should 
thus  in  course  of  time  be  conjoined,  and  that 
Christian  thought  should  seek  to  assign  to  each 
of  them  its  distinctive  function  and  meaning. 
But  historically  they  were  separate  rites,  which 
found  their  way  independently  into  the  life  of 
the  church  and  were  regarded  differently.  To 
understand  their  place  in  the  primitive  commu- 
nity it  is  necessary  to  forget  their  subsequent 
correlation  and  to  consider  each  of  them  by  itself. 

It  may  be  accepted  as  certain  that  the  rite  of 
baptism  was  not  instituted  by  Jesus.  In  view  of 
the  importance  that  was  attached  to  it  at  a  later 
time,  some  account  of  its  origin  would  undoubt- 
edly have  been  included  in  the  Gospel  history  if 
there  had  been  anything  in  the  work  of  Jesus 
which  might  be  so  interpreted.  As  it  is,  the  com- 
mand to  baptise  only  finds  a  place  in  a  closing 
verse  of  Matthew's  Gospel,  which  bears  all  the 

*  I  Cor.  10  :  1  #.  t  John  19  :  35;  I  John  5  :  6-8. 


BAPTISM  165 

marks  of  a  later  ecclesiastical  addition.  The 
fourth  evangelist,  with  all  his  predilection  for 
sacramental  doctrine,  expressly  admits  that  Jesus 
himself  did  not  baptise,  although  he  adds,  in  a 
somewhat  confused  and  inconsequent  fashion, 
that  the  rite  was  performed  by  his  disciples.* 
But,  while  Jesus  thus  refrained  from  any  cere- 
monial expression  of  his  message,  he  had  himself 
undergone  baptism  at  the  hands  of  John.  It  is 
more  than  probable  that  several  of  his  disciples 
had  similarly  been  baptised  by  John  before  they 
threw  in  their  lot  with  the  new  teacher.  The  way 
had  thus  been  prepared  in  Jesus'  own  lifetime 
for  the  adoption  of  the  rite  within  the  Christian 
church. 

It  was  so  adopted,  if  we  may  trust  our  records, 
at  the  very  commencement.  On  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost, according  to  the  story  in  Acts,  three  thou- 
sand converts  were  admitted  by  baptism,  and  al- 
though we  may  regard  this  particular  incident  as 
legendary,  we  have  no  reason  to  doubt  the  implied 
assertion  that  there  had  never  been  a  time  when 
the  church  did  not  administer  baptism  to  its 
converts.  The  evidence  of  Acts  is  fully  supported 
by  the  allusions  to  primitive  custom  which  are 
scattered  through  Paul's  Epistles.  In  two  differ- 
ent passages  the  Apostle  indicates  that  he  him- 
self had  been  baptised  as  a  matter  of  course  after 
his  conversion.!     He  takes  for  granted  that  the 

*  John  4  :  1,  2.  f  I  Cor.  12  :  13;  Romans  6  :  3. 


166         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

rite  was  in  universal  use  among  the  Christian 
communities,  and  his  fullest  references  to  it  are 
in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  addressed  to  a 
church  which  he  had  not  personally  visited  and 
which  probably  represented,  more  than  any  other, 
the  normal  practices  and  traditions.  Everywhere 
in  the  New  Testament  baptism  is  accepted  without 
question  as  an  ordinance  that  has  always  been 
valid — an  ordinance  that  belongs  to  "the  first 
principles  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ.'** 

How  are  we  to  explain  this  early  adoption  of 
an  observance  for  which  there  was  no  sanction  in 
the  commandment  of  Jesus  himself?  The  ques- 
tion can  be  partly  answered  from  what  we  know 
of  the  religious  customs  of  the  time.  In  all  the 
contemporary  religions  the  ritual  element  was  of 
primary  importance,  and  rites  of  purification, 
based  on  the  natural  symbolism  of  cleansing  by 
water,  were  more  widely  practised  than  any 
others.  Judaism  itself  was  largely  concerned  with 
lustrations  of  various  kinds,  and  in  at  least  one 
Jewish  sect,  that  of  the  Essenes,  baptism  played 
a  conspicuous  part.  The  closest  analogy  in 
Judaism  to  the  Christian  rite  was  the  baptism  of 
proselytes;  and  this  has  been  singled  out  by  many 
scholars  as  the  immediate  model  adopted  by  the 
church.  As  aliens  were  admitted  into  the  com- 
monwealth of  Israel  by  means  of  a  baptism,  so  a 
like  ceremony  was  employed  in  receiving  converts 
*  Heb.  6  :  1. 


BAPTISM  167 

into  the  new  Israel.  One  objection,  however, 
seems  fatal  to  this  derivation  of  the  Christian 
from  the  Jewish  rite.  The  baptism  of  proselytes 
was  intended  for  gentiles,  and  from  this  point  of 
view  its  whole  significance  must  be  explained. 
Their  connection  with  false  gods  and  forbidden 
customs  was  supposed  to  have  left  on  the  prose- 
lytes a  stain  of  defilement  which  could  only  be 
washed  away  by  a  solemn  act  of  purification. 
But  in  the  days  when  baptism  was  first  adopted 
by  the  church  it  was  administered  solely  to  Jewish 
converts.  We  cannot  for  a  moment  conceive  that 
Jews  would  have  submitted  to  a  rite  which  as- 
similated them  to  the  heathen,  and  it  would  have 
been  contrary  to  the  central  interest  of  the  church 
to  have  imposed  on  them  such  a  rite.  As  the 
Ecclesia  in  which  the  hopes  of  Israel  had  now 
come  to  fulfilment  it  was  not  at  liberty  to  treat 
its  Jewish  converts  as  if  they  were  proselytes 
from  an  alien  faith. 

The  adoption  of  the  rite  may  be  accounted  for 
most  naturally  by  the  example  and  influence  of 
John  the  Baptist.  Before  Jesus  had  yet  appeared 
John  had  proclaimed  the  coming  of  the  kingdom, 
and  had  offered  a  "baptism  for  the  remission  of 
sins"  in  view  of  the  imminent  crisis.  This  bap- 
tism of  John  was  closely  related  to  his  message 
and  has  doubtless  to  be  explained  in  the  light  of 
the  apocalyptic  tradition.  It  had  been  assumed 
from  the  time  of  the  prophets  onward  that  the 


168         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

kingdom  was  reserved  for  the  righteous  and  that 
a  cleansing  from  sin  was  the  necessary  condition 
of  entering  it.  John  offered  his  baptism  to  those 
who  sought  to  undergo  this  cleansing.  It  was 
administered  after  a  profession  of  repentance, 
and  to  this  extent  was  a  purely  symbolic  rite  be- 
tokening an  inward  moral  change.  But  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  doubt  that  John  attributed  a 
real  validity  to  his  baptism.  It  conveyed  a 
guarantee  to  the  baptised  that  God  had  accepted 
them  and  had  forgiven  their  sins.  They  could 
look  forward  with  confidence  to  the  coming  judg- 
ment, since  they  had  been  washed  in  that  "  foun- 
tain for  sin  and  for  uncleanness  "  *  which  God  had 
promised  to  open  for  his  people  in  the  latter  days. 
Why  Jesus  began  his  ministry  by  submitting 
to  the  baptism  of  John  is  a  problem  which  has 
baffled  all  conjecture  from  the  time  of  the  evan- 
gelists until  now.  Perhaps  the  knowledge  of  his 
own  vocation  had  not  yet  awakened  in  him,  and 
he  came  to  the  baptism  simply  as  one  of  the  faith- 
ful in  Israel  who  sought  to  fit  themselves,  by  this 
cleansing  rite,  for  participation  in  the  kingdom. 
Or  perhaps  his  true  motive  was  that  suggested  in 
the  record  of  Matthew:  "Thus  it  becometh  us  to 
fulfil  all  righteousness."  In  a  solemn  and  em- 
phatic manner  he  identified  himself  with  the 
hopes  of  his  countrymen  and  acknowledged  the 
divine  commission  of  John.  But,  although  he 
*  Zech.  13  :  1. 


BAPTISM  169 

was  himself  baptised,  it  is  clear  that  he  regarded 
the  rite  as  of  secondary  importance  and  did  not 
require  it  of  those  who  desired  to  join  his  fellow- 
ship. Some  of  his  disciples  may  have  come  over 
to  him  from  John,  but  the  greater  number  were 
of  his  own  choosing  and  were  accepted  on  the 
ground  of  faith  alone.  This  dispensing  with  a 
rite  which  had  now  become  so  closely  associated 
with  the  hope  of  the  kingdom  can  only  be  ex- 
plained as  deliberate.  With  a  profound  instinct 
he  avoided  all  confusion  of  his  moral  and  spiritual 
demands  with  mere  ceremonial  practice.  But 
while  he  discarded  the  rite  he  sanctioned  the  idea 
embodied  in  it — that  the  kingdom  was  for  the 
righteous  and  could  only  be  entered  by  way  of 
repentance  and  the  forgiveness  of  sin.  Some- 
times he  speaks  as  if  a  "change  of  mind"  itself 
carries  with  it  the  assurance  of  divine  forgive- 
ness. The  prodigal  has  only  to  arise  and  turn  to 
his  father,  and  can  feel  in  that  very  act  that  he 
will  be  pardoned  and  accepted.  Elsewhere  he 
seems  to  regard  forgiveness  as  a  special  gift  which 
he  himself  has  the  right  to  bestow  in  the  name  of 
God.  "Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee"  is  his  con- 
stant formula  when  he  wishes  to  impart  the  bless- 
ing which  he  values  most.  Jesus  insisted,  like 
John,  that  sin  must  be  forgiven  before  a  man 
could  enter  the  kingdom;  but  as  John  had  con- 
veyed this  forgiveness  by  an  impressive  rite,  so 
Jesus  communicated  it  by  his  word. 


170         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Here,  most  probably,  we  are  to  look  for  the 
ultimate  reason  for  the  adoption  of  baptism  by 
the  church.  Jesus  had  not  enjoined  it — indeed, 
had  purposely  refrained  from  it — yet  it  connected 
itself  with  a  well-marked  element  in  his  own 
teaching.  He  had  declared  that  no  man  could 
enter  the  kingdom  unless  he  repented  and  became 
like  a  little  child,  and  had  pronounced  his  word  of 
forgiveness  over  those  whom  he  received.  After 
his  death,  when  new  converts  sought  admission 
into  the  brotherhood,  the  disciples  were  anxious 
to  maintain  the  conditions  which  had  been  re- 
quired by  Jesus  himself.  But  how  was  it  now 
possible  to  meet  these  conditions?  Jesus  had  be- 
stowed the  gift  of  forgiveness  in  virtue  of  a  special 
authority,  exercised  by  him  as  the  divinely  ap- 
pointed Messiah.  The  disciples  could  claim  no 
such  authority.  They  shrank  from  arrogating 
to  themselves  a  power  which  was  recognised  by 
Jewish  piety  as  belonging  to  God  only.  In  their 
perplexity  they  fell  back  on  the  rite  instituted  by 
John.  He  had  introduced  it  as  a  standing  ordi- 
nance, available  henceforth  for  all  who  offered 
themselves  for  the  kingdom.  After  his  own 
death,  as  we  know  from  several  references  in  the 
book  of  Acts,  it  was  continued  as  a  matter  of 
course  within  the  sect  that  called  itself  by  his 
name.  The  disciples  of  Jesus,  likewise,  took  over 
the  baptism  of  John  as  an  ordinance  given  by 
God  for  the  remission  of  sins. 


BAPTISM  171 

To  our  minds  the  adoption  of  baptism  is  apt 
to  appear  as  a  startling  innovation  in  Christian 
practice.  Jesus  had  scarcely  departed  when  his 
gospel  was  allied  with  an  external  rite,  analogous 
to  those  which  obtained  in  many  forms  of  heathen 
worship.  From  this  alone  it  has  been  inferred 
that  alien  influences  must  have  been  at  work  from 
the  first,  profoundly  modifying  the  character  of 
the  new  religion.  But  in  view  of  the  precedent  of 
John  a  theory  of  this  kind  is  untenable.  So  far 
from  regarding  baptism  as  an  innovation,  de- 
liberately adopted,  we  can  understand  how  it 
established  itself  of  its  own  accord  as  soon  as  the 
necessity  arose  of  receiving  new  converts  into 
the  brotherhood.  It  needs  to  be  remembered 
that  the  Christian  movement  was  related  to  that 
of  John  in  a  far  closer  manner  than  we  commonly 
suppose.  Jesus  himself  had  recognised  John  to 
be  the  Elijah  who  was  to  inaugurate  the  series  of 
events  that  would  culminate  in  the  fulfilment  of 
the  kingdom  by  the  Messiah;  and  our  Gospels 
assume  throughout  that  the  mission  of  John  was 
an  integral  part  of  the  history  that  followed.* 
John  was  not  merely  a  forerunner,  whose  work 
was  absorbed  in  that  of  Jesus,  but  had  his  own 
significance  for  the  kingdom,  and  his  words  and 
acts  continued  to  be  authoritative.  Thus,  it  is 
not  difficult  to  explain  how  his  peculiar  rite  passed 
over,  almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  into  the  Chris- 
*  Cf.  also  Acts  1  :  5;  10  :  37. 


172         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

tian  church.  Although  it  had  not  been  practised 
by  Jesus,  it  was  yet  one  of  the  institutions  of  that 
new  movement  of  which  Jesus  had  been  the  cen- 
tral figure,  and  the  reversion  to  it  was  easy  and 
natural.  At  the  same  time,  a  distinction  seems 
to  have  been  preserved,  in  the  primitive  age,  be- 
tween the  essential  message  of  Jesus  and  this 
concomitant  rite  which  he  had  not  directly  sanc- 
tioned. Paul  undoubtedly  placed  a  high  estimate 
on  baptism  and,  by  associating  it  with  several  of 
his  central  doctrines,  contributed  not  a  little  to- 
ward the  heightening  of  its  significance  in  the 
later  church.  Yet  he  declares  in  a  remarkable 
passage  that  he  had  purposely  refrained  from  ad- 
ministering the  rite,  "for  Christ  sent  me  not  to 
baptise,  but  to  preach  the  gospel."*  He  recog- 
nised, apparently,  that  baptism  in  itself  was  a 
liturgical  act,  depending  for  its  worth  on  the  in- 
ward spiritual  change  which  it  represented.  His 
work  as  an  Apostle  was  to  effect  the  inward 
change,  and  to  this  work  he  confined  himself,  lest 
he  might  create  a  dangerous  confusion  in  the 
minds  of  his  converts.  In  the  custom  thus  fol- 
lowed by  Paul  we  have  indications  of  a  feeling 
which  he  probably  shared  with  the  other  Apos- 
tles. While  they  adopted  baptism  as  an  indis- 
pensable rite,  they  were  conscious  that  Jesus 
himself  had  not  required  it.  In  spite  of  all  the 
sacredness  with  which  it  was  gradually  invested, 
*  I  Cor.  1  :  17. 


BAPTISM  173 

the  sense  remained  that  it  had  come  in  from  the 
outside  and  was  alien  to  the  essential  gospel. 

If  the  Christian  ordinance  of  baptism  was  de-  • 
rived  from  that  of  John  we  can  hardly  be  wrong 
in  assigning  to  it  the  same  fundamental  import. 
In  its  later  as  in  its  earlier  phase  it  was  "the 
baptism  of  repentance  for  the  remission  of  sins." 
The  kingdom  of  God  was  destined  for  the  right- 
eous, and  before  men  could  hope  to  participate  in 
it  they  needed  to  be  cleansed  from  the  defilement 
of  the  old  life.  An  opportunity  was  provided  in  I 
baptism  whereby  they  might  thus  break  with  the  i 
past  and  obtain  the  assurance  of  forgiveness. 
That  this  was  the  original  purpose  of  the  rite  is 
clearly  implied  in  various  references  to  it  in  the 
book  of  Acts.  "  Repent  and  be  baptised  everyone 
of  you  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  remis- 
sion of  sins."  *  "Arise  and  be  baptised,  and  wash 
away  thy  sins,  calling  on  the  name  of  the  Lord."  f 
At  the  time  when  Acts  was  written  the  mystical 
ideas  of  baptism  had  become  generally  current, 
and  notices  like  these  can  only  be  explained  as 
reminiscences  of  an  earlier  and  simpler  concep- 
tion. Traces  of  it  may  be  discovered  in  those 
very  passages  of  Paul's  writings  which  prepare 
the  way  for  a  more  advanced  doctrine.  Baptism,  | 
as  Paul  conceives  it,  is,  in  the  first  instance,  a 
"washing,"    a    "rising   into    newness    of   life."  J 

*  Acts  2  :  38;  c/.  3  :  19.  t  Acts  22  :  16. 

1 1  Cor.  6  :  11;  Romans  6:4. 


174         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

His  further  speculations  as  to  its  meaning  are  all 
influenced  and  in  some  degree  suggested  by  this, 
its  primary  significance. 

Christian  baptism,  however,  was  recognised  to 
be  something  more  than  the  baptism  of  John. 
Although  outwardly  the  same  and  interpreted  in 
the  same  general  fashion,  the  rite  had  become  a 
new  one  and  had  received  a  larger  import  now 
that  it  had  been  adopted  into  the  life  of  the  church. 
This  is  brought  out  emphatically  in  the  curious 
passage  in  Acts  which  tells  how  the  disciples  of 
John  whom  Paul  found  at  Ephesus  were  required 
to  undergo  a  second  baptism.  The  rite  as  they 
had  previously  known  it  was  incomplete  and  had 
to  be  repeated  in  another  form  before  they  could 
be  admitted  into  the  Christian  community.  We 
learn  from  the  same  passage  how  the  new  ordi- 
nance was  differentiated  from  the  older  one.  It 
was  administered  "in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,"  and  its  higher  validity  was  bound  up,  ap- 
parently, with  the  use  of  this  formula.  At  a 
period  subsequent  to  the  apostolic  age  the  three- 
fold name  was  substituted  in  baptism  for  the 
name  of  Jesus.  The  beginnings  of  this  later 
usage  can  be  traced  in  certain  passages  of  the 
New  Testament  itself,  and  it  is  formally  adopted 
in  the  concluding  verses  of  Matthew's  Gospel. 
But  from  the  book  of  Acts  and  the  Pauline  Epis- 
tles it  is  abundantly  clear  that  the  primitive 
church  knew  only  the  simpler  formula,  and  even 


BAPTISM  175 

so  late  as  the  "Didache"  it  is  assumed  that  this 
alone  is  necessary.  What,  then,  was  the  meaning 
of  this  administration  of  baptism  "  in  the  name  of 
Jesus''? 

The  importance  of  this  question  was  not  fully 
appreciated  till  recent  years,  and  no  general  agree- 
ment has  yet  been  reached  as  to  the  answer  that 
should  be  given  to  it.  Hitherto  the  inquiry  has 
taken  its  direction,  for  the  most  part,  from  the 
various  analogies  which  have  been  discovered  in 
Hellenistic  usage.  The  suggestions  thrown  out  by 
Deissmann  and  other  philologists  have  given  rise 
to  an  entirely  new  theory  of  primitive  baptism,  of 
which  Heitmiiller,  in  his  various  works,  has  made 
himself  the  chief  exponent.*  According  to  this 
theory,  the  formula  "in  the  name"  or  "into  the 
name"  of  Jesus  (the  two  expressions  seem  to  be 
practically  synonymous  f)  must  be  regarded  as 
pointing  back  to  magical  ideas  inherited  from  the 
beliefs  of  prehistoric  times.  A  name  stood  for 
the  person  who  bore  it,  and  he  was  supposed  to 
be  himself,  in  some  manner,  present  when  his 
name  was  pronounced.  In  the  case  of  divine 
beings,  more  especially,  a  mysterious  virtue  was 

*  Heitmiiller,  "Im  Namen  Jesu";  "Taufe  und  Abendmahl 
im  Urchristentum." 

t  The  most  usual  and  probably  the  oldest  formula  is 
^a-KxCC^eiv  dq  xb  6vo[xa.  This  gradually  falls  into  disuse,  and 
gives  place  to  ev  tw  6v6[xaxc,  or  e%\  to)  6v6iAaTt.  Too  much 
weight  must  not  be  given  to  the  preposition.  In  all  three 
cases  it  seems  to  indicate  httle  more  than  a  mention  of  the 
name  accompanying  the  act. 


176         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

attributed  to  the  name.  He  who  invoked  it  or 
carried  it  engraved  on  an  amulet  was  brought 
into  a  personal  relation  to  the  god  and  could  rely 
on  his  protection.  This,  then,  it  is  argued,  was 
the  primary  meaning  of  the  invocation  of  the 
name  of  Jesus  in  the  ceremony  of  baptism.  The 
person  over  whom  the  name  was  pronounced 
entered  into  a  fellowship  with  Jesus,  who  shielded 
him  henceforth  from  the  assaults  of  evil  powers. 
In  like  manner,  too,  he  passed  over  into  the  pos- 
session of  Jesus.  The  mention  of  the  name  de- 
noted a  solemn  act  of  transference  whereby  he 
surrendered  himself  wholly  to  the  new  Master. 
In  confirmation  of  this  view  of  the  baptismal  for- 
mula, appeal  is  made  to  many  striking  parallels 
in  contemporary  language,  as  we  have  learned 
to  know  it  from  recently  discovered  documents 
of  common  life.  Property  conveyed  by  title- 
deeds  was  made  over  ''into  the  name"  of  him 
who  had  purchased  it.  The  legionary  was  bound 
to  obedience  by  taking  his  oath  "into  the  name" 
of  the  emperor.  Apart  from  such  collateral 
evidences,  the  view  is  supported  to  some  extent 
by  the  thought  and  language  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment itself.  It  is  uniformly  assumed  that  by 
baptism  "in  the  name  of  Jesus"  the  believer  has 
made  a  surrender  of  his  own  will  and  henceforth 
belongs  to  Jesus  as  his  "bondsman"  or  posses- 
sion. With  this  primitive  conception  of  the  mean- 
ing of  baptism  the  Pauline  doctrine  of  the  mys- 


BAPTISM  177 

tical  union  with  Christ  is  closely  connected.  The 
relation  of  ownership  implied  in  the  rite  is  con- 
strued by  Paul  as  one  of  personal  communion  in 
which  the  believer  identifies  himself  with  Christ. 

The  theory  has  called  attention  to  aspects  of 
primitive  baptism  which  have  been  unduly  neg- 
lected or  misunderstood,  but  there  are  several 
considerations  that  seem  to  render  it  untenable. 
(1)  It  rests  on  the  assumption  that  the  one  im- 
portant matter  in  baptism  was  the  pronouncing 
over  the  convert  of  the  name  of  Jesus.  The  rite 
itself  is  forgotten  or  becomes  a  mere  accessory, 
almost  superfluous,  to  the  invocation  of  the  name. 
Now,  it  may  be  granted  that  this  invocation  was 
the  peculiar  mark  of  Christian  baptism,  but  all 
our  evidence  proves  that  the  actual  rite  was  the 
essential  thing.  The  mention  of  the  name,  how- 
ever we  may  explain  it,  was  intended  to  complete 
the  rite  and  define  more  closely  its  scope  and 
character.  No  theory  can  be  satisfactory  unless 
it  deals  with  the  conception  of  baptism  as  a  whole. 
The  solemn  act  and  the  accompanying  words 
were  blended  together,  and  the  meaning  of  both 
of  them  was  vitally  affected  by  this  combination. 

(2)  It  imputes  to  early  Christianity  a  mode  of 
thinking  which  was  alien  to  its  true  character. 
Passages  can,  no  doubt,  be  adduced  from  the  New 
Testament  in  which  a  magical  value  seems  to  be 
attributed  to  the  name  of  Jesus— as  when  it  is 
used  in  the  Gospels  for  the  purposes  of  exorcism 


178         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

or  by  Peter  in  the  book  of  Acts  for  the  healing  of 
the  lame  man.  Even  in  these  cases  it  may  be 
questioned  whether  a  magical  effect  is  contem- 
plated, but,  however  this  may  be,  it  is  only  fair 
to  recognise  that  healings  and  exorcisms  were  in  a 
class  by  themselves.  According  to  the  belief  of 
the  time,  diseases,  especially  those  of  a  nervous 
order,  were  due  to  demonic  agency  and  had  to  be 
combated  by  magical  means.  If  the  Christians 
shared  the  popular  belief  and  substituted  the 
name  of  Jesus  for  the  divine  or  angelic  names 
that  were  commonly  employed  in  exorcism,  we 
have  no  right  to  leap  to  the  conclusion  that  magic 
was  of  the  essence  of  their  religion.  Against  the 
few  ambiguous  passages  we  must  set  the  whole 
evidence  of  the  New  Testament.  Primitive  Chris- 
tianity was  not  a  matter  of  incantations  and  ca- 
balistic signs,  but  of  faith  in  a  new  and  living 
power.  In  the  rite  of  baptism  this  faith  came  to 
expression,  and  any  attempt  to  explain  the  bap- 
tismal formula  by  purely  magical  ideas  is  inade- 
quate on  the  face  of  it.  The  convert,  dedicating 
himself  to  Jesus  in  a  moment  of  spiritual  exalta- 
tion, must  have  been  thinking  of  something  else 
than  the  efficacy  of  a  mysterious  name. 

(3)  It  binds  down  to  one  narrow  and  excep- 
tional meaning  a  phrase  that  had  a  much  wider 
significance.  By  diligent  search  among  the  re- 
covered papyri  it  may,  indeed,  be  shown  that  "  in 
the  name"  was  occasionally  used  as  a  formula  de- 


BAPTISM  179 

noting  a  peculiar  kind  of  magical  transaction. 
A  few  stray  passages  in  the  New  Testament  it- 
self may  be  held  to  betray  a  similar  usage.  But 
in  numerous  other  instances,  which  have  like- 
wise to  be  taken  into  account,  no  trace  of  it  can 
be  discovered.  When  Jesus  describes  the  false 
disciples  who  say  "have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy 
name**;  when  Paul  counsels  his  readers  whatso- 
ever they  do  "to  do  all  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,"  it  is  evident  that  some  larger  import  must 
be  attached  to  the  phrase.  We  owe  much  to 
modern  scholars  who  have  taught  us  to  reinter- 
pret New  Testament  terms  in  the  light  of  the 
current  language  of  the  first  century,  but  one 
cannot  but  feel  that  in  some  instances  they  have 
set  us  on  a  false  track.  The  religious  vocabulary 
of  the  early  church  was  mainly  borrowed  from  the 
Old  Testament,  and  scriptural  turns  of  expres- 
sion may  often  have  been  used,  as  we  use  them 
ourselves,  without  much  thought  of  their  exact 
meaning.  It  may  have  been  so  with  this  partic- 
ular phrase.  A  hundred  familiar  verses  in  Psalms 
and  Prophets  made  reference  to  the  name  of  God 
and  bade  men  trust  and  rejoice  and  hope  "in 
his  name."  We  can  understand  how  the  phrase 
may  have  been  transferred  to  Jesus  with  little 
more  intention  than  that  of  enhancing  his  power 
and  dignity.  It  is  significant  that  Paul,  in  sev- 
eral passages,  omits  the  qualifying  phrase  al- 
together  and    speaks   of    being   baptised    "into 


180         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

Christ."  *  As  the  Israelites  were  "baptised  unto 
Moses"  t — were  subjected  to  Moses  as  the  peo- 
ple of  his  Law — so  the  believers  had  come  under 
a  certain  relation  to  Christ.  It  is  evident  that 
for  Paul  the  simpler  phrase  contains  in  it  what  is 
essential  in  the  longer  and  more  formal  one.  To 
be  baptised  "in  the  name  of  Jesus"  is  to  "put  on 
Christ,"  to  submit  oneself  to  him  in  unreserved 
allegiance. 

It  may  be  suggested  as  not  improbable  that 
the  phrase  has  reference  to  the  confession  which 
seems  always  to  have  formed  an  element  in  Chris- 
tian baptism.  As  early  as  the  beginning  of  the 
second  century  this  confession  had  assumed  a 
more  extended  form  and  was  finally  elaborated 
into  the  so-called  Apostles'  Creed.  But  we  can 
gather  from  indications  in  the  New  Testament 
that  it  was  originally  comprised  in  the  two 
words  Ku/oio?  ^Irja-oik,  "Jesus  is  Lord."  On  three 
separate  occasionsj  Paul  repeats  these  words  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  leave  little  doubt  that  he  is 
quoting  a  formula  which  his  readers  will  at  once 
recognise  as  the  standard  expression  of  their  faith. 
Of  these  three  passages  the  most  instructive  is 
that  in  Romans.  The  Apostle  there  alludes  to  a 
confession  with  the  mouth  which  gives  utterance 
to  the  faith  awakened  by  the  word  of  preaching, 
and  which  is  summed  up  in  the  words  "Jesus  is 

*  Gal.  3  :  27;  Romans  6:3.  f  I  Cor.  10  :  2. 

t  Romans  10  :  9;  I  Cor.  12  :  3;  Phil.  2  :  11. 


BAPTISM  181 

Lord."  It  may  be  regarded  as  practically  cer- 
tain, in  view  of  the  whole  sequence  of  ideas,  that 
Paul  is  here  thinking  of  a  declaration  of  faith 
that  accompanied  the  saving  act  of  baptism. 
But  if  the  confession  "Jesus  is  Lord"  was  thus 
inseparable  from  the  ordinance  we  have  a  clew  to 
the  meaning  of  the  vexed  phrase  "baptised  in 
the  name  of  Jesus."  The  "name"  was  not  the 
personal  name,  employed  by  way  of  incanta- 
tion, but  the  sovereign  title  of  Kvpiof;.  Itiis  this 
which  Paul  has  in  his  mind  when  he  speaks  of 
Jesus  as  bearing  "the  name  that  is  above  every 
name,"  and  we  may  well  suppose  that  in  ordinary 
Christian  language  Jesus'  "name"  had  the  ac- 
cepted meaning  of  the  supreme  title  which  was 
now  his.  Of  such  a  usage  we  seem  to  discern  not 
a  few  indications  in  different  books  of  the  New 
Testament.*  Baptism  "in  the  name  of  Jesus" 
consisted,  therefore,  in  the  acknowledgment  of 
Jesus  as  the  Lord.  By  so  confessing  him  the 
convert  not  only  declared  his  faith  in  the  Messiah- 
ship  of  Jesus  but  brought  himself  under  a  per- 
sonal allegiance  to  him.  From  this  time  onward 
he  ceased  to  be  his  own,  he  abjured  all  other 
authority  by  which  he  had  formerly  been  bound 
and  subjected  himself  to  Jesus  in  the  relation  of 
servant  to  Lord. 

This  explanation  of  the  phrase  "  in  the  name  of 
Jesus"  may  be  suggested  as  simpler  and  more  in 
*  Cf.  Eph.  1  :  21;  Heb.  1  :  4;  Rev.  19  :  16. 


182         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

accordance  with  primitive  Christian  thought  than 
that  which' would  resolve  it  into  a  magical  for- 
mula. Whether  it  is  correct  or  not,  it  serves  to 
bring  out  the  significance  which  seems  always  to 
be  conveyed  by  the  phrase.  To  be  baptised  in 
the  name  of  Jesus  is  to  make  open  confession  of 
him  and  to  surrender  oneself  to  his  keeping  and 
authority.  It  was  this  confession  of  Jesus  which 
formed  the  characteristic  mark  of  Christian  bap- 
tism. The  disciples  took  over  the  ordinance  of 
John,  regarding  it,  like  him,  as  the  divinely  ap- 
pointed means  for  the  remission  of  sins;  but  they 
associated  it  with  the  faith  in  Jesus.  In  this 
manner  they  transformed  it  into  a  new  rite  ex- 
pressive of  the  new  Christian  ideas. 

In  two  ways  the  import  of  the  rite  was  changed 
when  the  confession  of  Jesus  was  made  an  essen- 
tial part  of  it.  (1)  The  ideas  involved  in  the  con- 
fession were  inevitably  blended  with  those  con- 
veyed by  the  original  rite,  so  that  it  acquired  a 
richer  and  more  definite  meaning.  Baptism  was 
still  an  act  of  cleansing  for  the  remission  of  sins, 
but  this  cleansing  was  now  related  to  the  faith  in 
Jesus.  He  had  been  the  mediator  of  the  divine 
forgiveness,  and  it  was  vouchsafed  to  those  who, 
by  confession  of  his  "name,"  had  become  his 
people.  A  peculiar  feature  in  Paul's  doctrine  of 
baptism  is  his  correlation  of  the  ordinance  with 
the  death  of  Christ.    It  assumes  for  him  the  char- 


BAPTISM  183 

acter  of  a  dramatic  act  whereby  the  believer  re- 
peats in  his  own  person  the  Lord's  death,  with  the 
ensuing  burial  and  resurrection.  This  interpre- 
tation has  been  singled  out  by  modern  writers 
as  distinctively  Pauline;  indeed,  they  have  here 
discovered  the  outstanding  difference  between 
Paul's  conception  of  baptism  and  that  which  pre- 
vailed in  the  earlier  church.  But  it  may  reason- 
ably be  conjectured  that  Paul  is  merely  elaborat- 
ing, in  his  own  fashion,  ideas  which  had  already 
found  root  in  the  common  belief.  We  know  from 
Paul's  own  testimony  (I  Cor.  15  :  3)  that  he  had 
received  as  part  of  the  existing  tradition  "how 
that  Christ  died  for  our  sins  according  to  the 
scripture";  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  this  for- 
giveness through  the  death  of  Christ  had  con- 
nected itself  in  men's  minds  with  the  forgiveness 
obtained  in  baptism.  The  words  of  Paul  appear 
to  indicate  that  such  a  connection  had  already 
been  surmised.  "Know  ye  not,"  he  asks,  "that 
as  many  of  us  as  were  baptised  into  Jesus  Christ 
were  baptised  into  his  death?"  *  Addressing 
the  Roman  church,  which  he  had  not  himself 
evangelised,  he  appeals  to  this  significance  of 
baptism  as  to  something  known;  moreover,  he 
suggests  that  he  had  been  conscious  in  his  own 
baptism  of  a  participation  in  the  death  of  Christ. 
It  has  always  to  be  remembered  that  Jesus  him- 
self, if  we  may  trust  our  Gospel  records — and  on 
*  Romans  6:3. 


184         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

this  point  there  is  no  valid  reason  to  doubt  their 
evidence — attached  a  paramount  value  to  his 
death.  He  conceived  of  it  as  "a  ransom  for 
many" — a  means  ordained  by  God  for  the  removal 
of  all  hindrances  that  delayed  the  coming  of  the 
kingdom.  In  this  conviction,  impressed  by  Jesus 
on  his  disciples,  we  probably  have  the  true  key 
to  much  that  seems  otherwise  inexplicable  in 
the  genesis  of  Christian  thought.  If  this  be 
granted,  it  is  not  difficult  to  understand  how  the 
idea  of  baptism  may  have  linked  itself,  almost 
from  the  outset,  with  that  of  the  death  of  Christ. 
For  the  Christian,  who  believed  that  Christ  had 
offered  the  ransom  for  many,  baptism  did  not  pro- 
cure the  forgiveness  of  sins  by  some  efficacy  of 
its  own.  It  availed  only  for  those  who  by  con- 
fession of  Jesus  were  '^  baptised  into  his  death." 

(2)  The  accompanying  confession  not  only 
modified  the  original  meaning  of  the  rite  but 
added  to  it  a  new  significance.  By  means  of  it 
the  convert  was  received  into  the  Christian 
brotherhood  and  became  a  participant  in  its  ob- 
ligations and  privileges.  There  is  no  evidence 
that  the  baptism  of  John  possessed  a  value  of 
this  kind.  John  gathered  around  him  his  own 
sect  of  followers,  which  continued  after  his  death; 
but  the  submission  to  his  baptism  did  not  in- 
volve membership  in  the  sect.  We  gather  from 
the  Gospel  narrative  that  the  majority  of  those 
whom  John  baptised  were  no  further  associated 


BAPTISM  185 

with  him  or  with  one  another.  They  resumed 
their  life  as  ordinary  Jews,  except  that  they  had 
now  undergone  a  special  purification  in  view  of 
the  approaching  kingdom.  But  Christian  bap- 
tism implied  the  joining  of  a  community.  This, 
indeed,  was  one  of  the  essential  elements  in  its 
meaning — that  the  man  who  had  once  submitted 
to  it  was  incorporated  henceforth  in  the  Ecclesia. 
In  the  light  of  the  conclusions  we  have  already 
reached,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  how  baptism  ac- 
quired this  peculiar  value.  The  work  of  Jesus,  as 
conceived  by  his  disciples,  had  been  that  of  form- 
ing a  community,  a  new  Israel,  in  which  the 
promises  of  God  would  receive  their  fulfilment. 
This  idea  of  the  redeemed  community  was  pri- 
mary in  early  Christian  thought.  The  heirs  of  the 
kingdom  were  not  a  multitude  of  separate  in- 
dividuals who  had  declared  their  faith  in  Christ, 
but  were  bound  together  as  a  single  organism 
possessed  of  a  common  life.  In  order  to  partici- 
pate in  the  life,  it  was  necessary  to  be  a  member 
of  the  body.  In  the  new  Israel,  as  in  the  old,  the 
individual  was  nothing  apart  from  the  whole 
community,  which  was  the  object  of  God's  choice. 
We  can  understand,  therefore,  how  a  special 
significance  connected  itself  with  baptism.  It 
was  an  act  of  preparation  for  the  kingdom,  and 
was  accompanied  by  a  confession  of  Jesus,  through 
whom  the  kingdom  was  to  come;  but  in  this  same 
act  the  convert  was  assimilated  to  the  church. 


186         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

In  virtue  of  the  faith  he  had  professed  he  was  held 
to  have  secured  his  place  in  that  new  community 
to  which  the  kingdom  had  been  promised.  Here, 
probably,  we  are  to  discover  the  true  reason  why 
the  confession  required  at  baptism  took  the  par- 
ticular form  of  Kv/oto9  'Irjaoik.  The  title  "Lord," 
as  we  have  seen  already,  was  used  within  the 
church  to  express  that  attitude  in  which  his  own 
people  stood  to  Jesus.  As  distinguished  from  the 
abstract  title  of  Messiah,  it  carried  with  it  the 
acknowledgment  of  his  sovereign  right,  and  could 
only  be  assigned  to  him  by  that  community  in 
which  he  reigned.  To  confess  him  as  "Lord," 
therefore,  implied  that  you  took  your  place  in  his 
community.  You  joined  in  the  allegiance  which 
was  rendered  him  by  his  people  and  claimed  your 
right  in  those  blessings  which  he  bestowed  upon 
them.  We  have  no  ground  for  supposing  that 
in  the  primitive  age  a  mystical  value  was  at- 
tributed to  baptism.  It  was  the  token  of  incor- 
poration into  the  church  because  it  stood  for  re- 
pentance and  for  the  open  confession  of  a  living 
faith  in  Jesus.  We  are  not  even  to  think  of  it 
as  a  Christian  counterpart  to  the  seal  of  circum- 
cision, although  at  least  one  reference  in  Paul 
would  seem  to  indicate  that  thought  soon  began 
to  tend  in  this  direction.*  But  the  primitive 
custom  of  admitting  to  the  church  by  baptism 
easily  lent  itself  to  a  further  development.  The 
*Col.  2:  11/. 


BAPTISM  187 

rite  whereby  a  man  entered  the  new  community 
was  construed,  under  the  influence  of  heathen 
ideas,  as  a  rite  of  initiation  into  the  mysteries  of  a 
new  life. 

In  the  later  New  Testament  period  baptism  is  \ 
connected  above  all  with  the  work  of  the  Spirit. 
It  is  assumed  that  in  the  moment  of  baptism  the 
higher  power  takes  possession  of  a  man's  nature, 
effecting  in  him  a  change  so  radical  that  it  may 
be  described  as  a  new  birth.  To  the  fourth  evan- 
gelist "water  and  the  Spirit"  are  two  elements 
that  work  together— the  Spirit  communicating  it- 
self, in  a  manner  that  cannot  be  traced  or  defined, 
through  the  material  act  of  baptism.  Not  a  few 
modern  writers  have  attributed  a  similar  doctrine 
to  Paul  and  have  even  given  it  a  cardinal  place 
in  his  theology.  The  evidence  they  adduce  is  far 
from  convincing,  but  it  may  at  least  be  admitted 
that  in  more  than  one  striking  passage  Paul 
brings  the  work  of  the  Spirit  into  close  relation  to 
baptism.*  How  far  did  it  belong  to  the  primitive 
conception  of  the  rite  that,  by  means  of  it  or 
simultaneously  with  it,  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  was 
imparted? 

The  question  is  difficult  to  answer;  for  when  our 

records   were   composed   the    connection   of   the 

Spirit  with  baptism  had  become  a  settled  belief 

in  the  church.    Luke  assumes  that  the  difference 

*  I  Cor.  6:  11;  12:  13. 


188        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

between  the  earlier  and  the  later  baptism  con- 
sists in  this:  that  John  baptised  with  water  only, 
while  the  Christian  baptism  was  accompanied 
with  the  Spirit.*  To  Peter's  summons  at  Pente- 
cost, "  Repent  and  be  baptised  every  one  of  you," 
he  adds,  as  a  matter  of  course,  "and  ye  shall  re- 
ceive the  Holy  Spirit."  f  Luke's  own  position  is 
so  clear  that  the  more  significance  must  be  at- 
tached to  certain  passages  in  which  baptism  and 
the  gift  of  the  Spirit  appear  as  two  separate  ex- 
periences. In  the  story  of  Cornelius  we  are  told 
how  the  Spirit  descended  on  the  believing  gen- 
tiles, and  Peter  accepts  this  as  a  sign  from  God 
that  baptism  may  now  be  administered.!  Else- 
where the  Spirit  is  bestowed  after  baptism,  either 
as  a  direct  gift  from  heaven  or  by  the  symbolic 
action  of  the  laying  on  of  hands.  §  Even  in  pas- 
sages where  he  assumes  the  coincidence  of  baptism 
with  the  gift  of  the  Spirit,  Luke  cannot  wholly 
conceal  the  traces  of  a  prior  tradition.  The  dis- 
ciples of  John  at  Ephesus  are  baptised  by  Paul 
for  the  express  reason  that  they  may  receive  the 
heavenly  gift  of  which  they  have  hitherto  been 
completely  ignorant.  But  they  only  receive  it 
after  the  rite  has  been  performed,  when  Paul  has 
laid  his  hands  upon  them.ll  Their  baptism,  ap- 
parently, had  conferred  on  them  not  the  gift  it- 

*  Acts  1  :  5;  11  :  15-18;  19  :  1-7.  f  Acts.  2  :  38\ 

J  Acts  10:  44  #.  §  Acts  8  :  16,  17. 

II  Acts  19  :  1-7. 


BAPTISM  189 

self  but  some  new  capability  whereby  they  could 
respond  to  it. 

It  would  appear,  therefore,  that  in  the  earlier 
belief,  of  which  we  have  reminiscences  in  the  book 
of  Acts,  there  was  no  intrinsic  connection  between  , 
baptism  and  the  imparting  of  the  Spirit.  Even  \ 
if  no  such  direct  evidence  had  been  preserved  to 
us,  we  might  have  inferred  that  the  two  experi- 
ences were  originally  separate.  Baptism,  in  spite 
of  the  important  place  which  it  always  occupied, 
was  by  its  nature  a  ritual  act,  formal  and  deliber- 
ate. The  gift  of  the  Spirit  was  something  that 
came  spontaneously,  and  no  mode  or  time  could 
be  prescribed  for  its  manifestation.  In  the  first 
age,  when  the  mood  of  enthusiasm  was  still  fresh 
and  real,  the  distinction  between  the  formal  rite 
and  the  sudden  inrush  of  the  Spirit  must  have 
been  so  evident  that  no  one  could  think  of  identi- 
fying them.  The  doctrine  that  they  took  place 
together  is  obviously  the  product  of  a  later  time, 
when  the  Spirit  had  partly  lost  its  former  char- 
acter and  was  conceived  of  as  a  silent  power 
operating  constantly  in  the  Christian  life. 

But,  although  the  later  view  of  the  significance 
of  baptism  must  be  regarded  as  foreign  to  primi- 
tive Christian  thought,  we  can  see  how  it  devel- 
oped itself  out  of  conditions  that  were  present 
from  the  first.  Something  must  be  allowed,  on 
the  one  hand,  to  psychological  causes.  Baptism 
was  a  ritual  act  and  had  no  necessary  connection 


190         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

with  the  manifestations  of  the  Spirit.  Yet  it 
marked  for  the  convert  the  most  sacred  moment 
of  his  life,  when  he  definitely  broke  with  the  past 
and  surrendered  himself  to  Jesus  as  his  Lord. 
On  this  occasion  of  all  others  he  would  be  over- 
powered by  religious  emotion.  In  many  cases  it 
would  find  utterance  in  those  strange  outcries 
which  were  supposed  to  witness  to  the  Spirit. 
Even  if  phenomena  of  this  kind  were  absent,  the 
moment  would  be  remembered  as  one  of  vision 
and  exaltation.  A  Christian  who  reflected  on  his 
experience  and  tried  to  determine  when  he  had 
first  been  conscious  of  the  Spirit  might  naturally 
conclude  that  it  had  come  upon  him  in  his  bap- 
tism. This  belief  would  suggest  itself  the  more 
readily  if  the  story  of  the  baptism  of  Jesus,  as 
recorded  in  our  Gospels,  formed  part  of  the  primi- 
tive tradition.  If  the  details  of  the  story  were 
added  later,  we  may  explain  them  from  a  reading 
back  into  the  life  of  Jesus  of  an  experience  which 
was  familiar  to  his  disciples.  The  moment  of 
baptism  was  one  of  consecration  when  they  could 
feel  as  if  the  heavens  had  opened  and  the  Spirit 
were  descending  on  them.  But,  apart  from  these 
psychological  reasons,  we  can  account  for  the  new 
significance  which  gradually  attached  itself  to 
baptism  and  displaced  the  earlier  conceptions. 
By  the  confession  of  Jesus  in  baptism  the  convert 
passed  over  into  the  church.  He  was  a  member 
henceforth  of  that  new  community  on  which  the 


BAPTISM  191 

Spirit  had  been  bestowed,  and  as  such  he  partici- 
pated in  the  common  life.  His  baptism  in  itself 
might  be  a  formal  rite,  unaccompanied  by  any 
working  of  the  higher  power;  but,  in  so  far  as  he 
was  now  incorporated  within  the  church,  he  was 
endowed  with  the  Spirit.  At  any  time  it  might 
openly  declare  its  presence;  but  even  if  these  mani- 
festations were  lacking  he  could  feel  that  he  pos- 
sessed it,  since  he  was  one  with  the  spiritual  com- 
munity. Thus  the  later  doctrine  of  baptism,  alien 
as  it  was  to  the  original  meaning  of  the  ordinance, 
may  be  said  to  have  brought  to  a  focus  those 
primitive  ideas  which  have  met  us  constantly  in 
the  course  of  our  inquiry.  The  church,  as  the 
community  of  the  kingdom,  was  endued  with  the 
Spirit,  which  was  to  be  poured  out  in  the  new  age. 
This  power  was  bestowed  not  on  the  individuals 
in  whom  it  might  specially  reveal  itself  but  on 
the  church  as  an  organic  whole;  all  members  of 
the  body  had  their  share  in  the  life  of  the  body. 
It  followed  that  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  was  im- 
parted to  each  believer  from  the  moment  of  his 
entrance  into  the  church.  The  baptism  with 
water  was  at  the  same  time  a  baptism  with  the 
Spirit.  There  was  no  thought  of  this  identifica- 
tion in  the  minds  of  the  earlier  Apostles,  but  it 
was  logically  involved  in  their  conception  of  the 
church. 


LECTURE  VIII 


The  rite  of  baptism,  although  it  expressed  ideas 
which  could  find  their  sanction  in  the  teaching 
of  Jesus,  was  not  directly  instituted  by  him.  It 
marked  a  reversion  from  his  own  practice  to  that 
of  his  predecessor;  and,  in  spite  of  the  cardinal 
place  which  it  soon  occupied,  it  was  recognised, 
even  by  Paul,  as  something  accessory  to  the 
gospel.  But  in  the  Lord's  Supper  the  church 
claimed  to  possess  an  ordinance  which  Jesus  him- 
self had  bequeathed  to  it  at  the  supreme  moment 
of  his  life.  From  the  beginning  this  ordinance 
was  the  chief  bond  of  union  in  the  Christian 
brotherhood  and  the  central  act  of  its  worship. 
What  was  the  significance  originally  attached  to 
the  Lord's  Supper?  This  question,  more,  per- 
haps, than  any  other,  is  crucial  for  our  whole 
inquiry  into  the  character  and  beliefs  of  the  early 
church. 

Here,  however,  to  an  even  greater  extent  than 

in  the  case  of  baptism,  we  have  to  reckon  with  a 

confusion  due  to  the  intermingling  of  earlier  and 

later  ideas.     The  Supper  was  in  itself  a  richer 

192 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  193 

and  more  suggestive  rite  than  baptism,  and  the 
circumstances  of  its  origin  had  lent  it  a  pecu- 
liar consecration.  As  time  went  on  it  gathered 
around  it  new  meanings,  derived  from  the  deep- 
ening thought  and  experience  of  the  church,  and 
these  interpretations  cannot  be  separated  with 
any  certainty  from  the  original  conceptions  to 
which,  in  many  cases,  they  may  have  been  nearly 
allied.  Moreover,  the  doctrine  of  the  Supper 
yielded  itself  in  an  almost  unique  fashion  to 
modification  by  alien  influences.  The  sacred 
meal  was  a  well-marked  feature  in  all  the  con- 
temporary religions — so  much  so  that  Paul,  in 
the  very  effort  to  differentiate  the  Supper  from 
the  kindred  observances  of  heathenism,  is  led  un- 
consciously to  think  of  them  in  similar  terms  (I 
Cor.  10  :  21).  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  in 
the  process  of  the  gentile  mission  the  conception 
of  the  Supper  was  influenced  in  several  directions 
by  mystical  ideas  native  to  the  heathen  cults, 
and  these  ideas  entered  so  deeply  into  its  sub- 
stance that  we  find  it  almost  impossible  to  detach 
them.  At  the  same  time  there  is  a  danger,  to 
which  modern  criticism  has  too  readily  succumbed, 
of  unduly  narrowing  the  original  import  of  the 
Supper  by  an  exclusive  emphasis  on  the  later  in- 
fluences. The  possibility  has  always  to  be  borne 
in  mind  that  their  action,  for  the  most  part, 
was  subsidiary.  Instead  of  creating  a  new  sig- 
nificance for  the  rite  they  may  only  have  accen- 


194         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

tuated  and  fostered  the  ideas  which  were  vaguely- 
connected  with  it  from  the  first. 

It  is  apparent,  from  the  evidence  of  the  New 
Testament  itself,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Supper 
underwent  profound  changes  in  the  course  of  the 
first  century.  The  fourth  evangelist  conceives  of 
the  ordinance  in  a  different  manner  from  Paul, 
and  the  interpretation  of  Paul  can  hardly  have 
corresponded,  in  all  points,  with  that  of  the 
primitive  community.  Some  ground  is  thus  af- 
forded for  the  radical  doubt  which  has  been  raised 
more  than  once  in  modern  criticism.  It  has 
been  maintained  that  the  whole  tradition  of  the 
founding  of  the  ordinance  by  Jesus  is  open  to 
question,  and  may  best  be  explained  as  a  myth 
that  grew  up  around  a  given  practice.  Chris- 
tianity, under  the  influence  of  contemporary  re- 
ligious custom,  adopted  the  rite  of  the  sacred 
meal;  and  this  was  gradually  invested,  as  in 
other  cults,  with  an  explanatory  legend.  The 
common  meal  was  brought  into  relation  with  the 
history  of  Jesus.  Its  observance  was  traced  to 
an  injunction  given  by  him  that  his  saving  death 
should  in  this  manner  be  commemorated  by  all 
succeeding  time.  The  theory  breaks  down,  how- 
ever, when  we  examine  the  actual  character  of 
the  supposed  myth.  If  it  had  been  freely  invented 
to  account  for  a  perplexing  religious  custom,  it 
would  surely  have   embodied  some   attempt  to 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  195 

throw  light  upon  its  meaning.    As  it  is,  the  nar- 
ratives of  the  Supper  that  have  come  down  to  us 
are  all  fragmentary  and  obscure.     So  far  from  ex- 
plaining the  rite  as  it  was  practised  in  the  church, 
they  cannot  be  reconciled  with  it  except  in  a  par- 
tial and  general  way.     The  conclusion  is  forced 
on  us  that  we  have  not  to  do  with  a  symbolic 
legend,  framed  to  account  for  an  observance,  but 
with  a  historical  fact  to  wfiich  the    observance 
has   difficulty   in   adjusting   itself.     Apart   from 
these  larger  considerations,  the  evidence  for  the 
historical  character  of  the  Last  Supper  is  such  as 
can  hardly  admit  of  serious  question,     (a)  The 
facts  are  recorded  by  Paul  after  an  interval  of 
little  more  than  twenty  years,  and  he  claims  to  be 
merely  transmitting  an  accepted  tradition.     (6) 
The  narrative  of  Paul  is  one  of  several  which 
have  been  preserved  to  us,  all  of  them  repeating 
the  same  general  features    although  with  differ- 
ences that  prove  them  to  be  independent.    From 
their  divergences  we  can  infer  that  they  reflect 
the  practice  of  Christian  communities  widely  re- 
moved from  each  other;  while  it  is  manifest,  in 
view   of  the   substantial   agreement,   that  these 
communities  were  all  at  one  as  to  the  origin  of  the 
rite.    If  the  incident  is  legendary,  the  legend  must 
have  been  invented  in  the  very  earliest  days  of 
the  church— at  a  time,  that  is,  when  the  facts 
were  so  vividly  remembered  that  invention  was 
impossible,     (c)  When  we  consider  the  admitted 


196         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

circumstances  of  Jesus'  death,  his  institution  of 
the  Supper  has  an  a  priori  possibility.  He  died  in 
the  Passover  week,  when  the  thought  of  the  sacred 
meal  was  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  all  men. 
Leaving  aside  for  the  present  the  difficult  question 
as  to  the  precise  date  of  the  Last  Supper,  the 
season  was  one  in  which  it  was  natural  that  Jesus 
should  think  of  the  Passover  meal  and  avail  him- 
self of  its  symbolism  in  his  farewell  meeting  with 
his  disciples.  It  may  be  granted  that  the  ritual 
feasts  of  the  contemporary  cults  left  their  mark 
on  the  later  development  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
Supper;  but  a  sober  criticism  cannot  venture  to 
explain  the  Christian  ordinance  entirely  from  these, 
in  face  of  the  obvious  parallel  afforded  by  the 
Jewish  rite  of  the  Passover. 

We  may  assume,  then,  without  misgiving,  that 
the  observance  of  the  Supper  was  directly  re- 
lated to  the  example  of  Jesus  himself.  His  dis- 
ciples remembered  that  on  the  last  occasion  when 
they  supped  with  him  he  had  made  use  of  the 
bread  and  wine  which  lay  before  him  in  order  to 
express  some  thought  that  was  in  his  mind.  When 
the  Christian  brotherhood  was  formed  at  Jeru- 
salem the  custom  established  itself,  apparently 
from  the  beginning,  of  re-enacting  this  farewell 
Supper  of  Jesus.  Unfortunately,  we  are  told 
nothing  in  detail  as  to  the  nature  of  the  primitive 
observance  or  the  ideas  connected  with  it.    The 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  197 

information  given  us  in  the  book  of  Acts  is  all 
comprised  in  two  incidental  references,  both  of 
them  occurring  in  the  passage  which  describes  the 
growth  of  the  church  after  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
(o)  ''And  they  continued  stedfastly  in  the  teach-  1 
ing  of  the  Apostles  and  the  fellowship — in  the  ! 
breaking  of  bread  and  the  prayers"  (Acts  2  :  42).  / 
(b)  "And  day  by  day,  continuing  stedfastly  in 
the  Temple,  and  breaking  bread  at  home,  they 
took  their  food  with  gladness  and  singleness  of  | 
heart"  (Acts  2  :  46).  Another  translation  of  the 
former  passage  is  grammatically  possible:  "they 
persisted  in  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles,  and  in 
the  fellowship  by  means  of  the  breaking  of  bread, 
and  in  the  prayers."  This  rendering  has  been 
adopted  by  some  scholars,  who  find  in  it  at  least 
a  foothold  for  a  special  theory  of  the  primitive 
conception  of  the  Supper.  But  there  is  no  valid 
reason  for  substituting  this  awkward  construc- 
tion for  the  plain  and  natural  one.  The  author 
contemplates  not  three  but  four  characteristic 
elements  in  the  life  of  the  infant  church,  and  he 
arranges  them  in  two  pairs :  on  the  one  hand,  ac- 
ceptance of  the  Christian  teaching  and  associa- 
tion in  a  common  life;  on  the  other  hand,  obser- 
vance of  the  supper  and  meeting  together  for 
prayer. 

From  these  two  notices  in  Acts,  brief  and 
meagre  as  they  are,  we  can  draw  several  impor- 
tant inferences.    (1)  The  observance  which  in  the  ^^ 


198         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

later  Pauline  communities  bore  the  name  of  "  the 
Lord's  Supper"  was  originally  known  as  "the 
breaking  of  bread."  That  this  phrase  applies 
not  to  an  ordinary  meal  but  to  the  specific  rite 
of  the  Supper  is  rendered  certain  by  Luke's  usage 
elsewhere;  for  example,  in  the  story  of  the  walk  to 
Emmaus,  where  the  Lord  reveals  himself  to  the 
two  disciples  by  his  "breaking  of  bread."  *  It 
is  a  forcing  of  language  to  conclude,  as  some  have 
done,  that  the  distribution  of  the  cup  had  no 
place  in  the  primitive  ritual;  for  the  complete 
ordinance  may  well  have  been  connoted  by  a 
name  that  applied  strictly  to  one  part  of  it.  Yet 
we  may  fairly  assume  that  the  breaking  of  bread 
was  recognised  as  the  chief  part  of  the  ordinance, 
and  this  assumption  is  borne  out  by  other  evi- 
dences in  the  New  Testament.  In  the  Emmaus 
story  already  mentioned  it  is  by  the  definite  act 
of  breaking  the  bread  that  Jesus  makes  himself 
known.  The  miracle  of  the  feeding  of  the  five 
thousand  is  meant,  we  can  hardly  doubt,  to  bear 
that  reference  to  the  Supper  which  is  explicitly 
found  in  it  by  the  fourth  evangelist;  and  it  con- 
sists in  the  giving  of  bread.  This  symbolic  mir- 
acle points  us,  likewise,  to  the  true  significance 
of  the  breaking  of  the  bread.  Paul,  in  his  desire 
to  correlate  the  Supper  with  his  own  theological 
ideas,  seems  to  regard  the  breaking  as  in  some 
way  typical  of  the  destruction  of  Christ's  body. 
*  Cf.  also  Acts  20  :  7-12. 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  199 

But  this  interpretation  is   arbitrary  and  is  only 
hinted  at  by  Paul  himself.     The  true  emphasis  j 
falls  on  the  distribution  of  the  bread,  which  is' 
broken  into  portions  that  all  alike  may  partake! 
of  it. 

(2)  The  supper  was  observed  daily,  and  in 
private  houses;  for  this  is  apparently  the  mean- 
ing of  the  somewhat  ambiguous  phrase  /car  oIkov 
(Acts  2  :  46).  Even  in  the  earliest  days  the  num- 
ber of  the  believers  w^as  too  large  to  admit  of  a 
meal  in  which  all  could  participate  together;  and 
Luke  tells  us,  therefore,  that,  while  a  general 
gathering  took  place  each  day  in  the  precincts  of 
the  temple,  the  brethren  separated  into  groups 
and  adjourned  to  different  houses  for  the  purpose 
of  the  Supper.  From  the  double  statement  that 
it  was  held  daily  and  in  a  semi-private  fashion,  we 
can  infer  that  it  was  a  social  meal  as  well  as  a 
religious  ordinance.  At  a  later  period  we  hear 
of  two  distinct  meals — the  agape,  or  feast  of 
Christian  fellowship,  and  the  eucharist.  These 
two  meals  seem  at  first  to  have  been  linked  to- 
gether and  afterward  to  have  been  disjoined. 
Their  changing  relation  to  each  other  forms  a 
difficult  problem  in  early  church  history  which 
does  not  here  concern  us.  For  the  apostolic  age 
seems  to  have  recognised  only  one  meal,  which 
underwent  division  at  a  subsequent  time  when  it 
was  felt  desirable  to  mark  the  solemn  character 
of  the  ritual  observance  by  separating  it  from  the 


200         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

meal  as  a  whole.  In  the  classic  passage  of  the 
eleventh  chapter  of  I  Corinthians  Paul  describes 
a  Lord's  Supper  which  is  at  the  same  time  a  meal 
for  social  fellowship.  His  language  would  seem 
to  suggest  that  the  distribution  of  the  bread  took 
place  at  the  beginning  of  the  meal  and  the  drink- 
ing of  the  cup  at  a  later  stage,  "after  they  had 
supped."  In  any  case,  he  thinks  of  the  obser- 
vance proper  as  consecrating  the  whole  meal,  of 
which  it  forms  an  integral  part.  The  notices  in 
Acts  reflect  a  similar  usage,  for  they  make  no  dis- 
tinction between  the  daily  meal  and  the  "  breaking 
of  bread"  which  accompanied  it.  How  long  the 
custom  continued  of  celebrating  the  Lord's  Supper 
as  part  of  the  ordinary  meal  we  have  no  means 
of  determining.  In  the  Pauline  communities,  al- 
though the  meal  still  retained  its  social  character, 
the  daily  observance  had  already  given  place  to 
a  weekly  one.  But  we  have  to  remember  that 
the  mood  of  the  church  in  the  initial  days  was  one 
of  glowing  enthusiasm  inspired  by  the  momentary 
expectation  of  the  return  of  Christ.  Every  meal 
at  which  the  believers  held  fellowship  with  one 
another  seemed  to  mark  the  eve  of  the  great  ful- 
filment, and  no  need  was  felt  to  separate  the  or- 
dinary eating  and  drinking  from  the  sanctities  of 
the  Lord's  Supper. 

(3)  A  further  aspect  of  the  observance,  as  con- 
templated in  these  passages  of  Acts,  has  rightly 
been  emphasised  by  modern  scholars.    "  Breaking 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  201 

bread  in  the  house-gatherings,  they  ate/*  we  are 
told,  "with  gladness"  (Acts  2  :  46).  The  meal, 
apparently,  was  the  occasion  of  joyous  intercourse, 
not  of  such  mournful  reminiscence  as  might  have 
seemed  more  fitting  in  a  commemoration  of  the 
Lord's  death.  That  the  Supper  continued  to  bear 
this  character  of  gladness  may  be  gathered  from 
Paul's  rebuke  of  the  manner  of  its  observance  at 
Corinth.  It  had  there  degenerated  into  a  mere 
festive  banquet  in  which  its  sacred  import  was 
almost  entirely  forgotten.  The  influence  of  the 
pagan  feasts  may,  no  doubt,  have  contributed  to 
this  perversion  of  the  meal  in  the  Greek  city,  but 
in  the  main  we  may  see  in  it  the  exaggeration  of  a 
primitive  custom.  A  spirit  of  joyful  fellowship 
had  been  associated  with  the  Supper  from  the 
earliest  days.  Conclusions  of  a  far-reaching  na- 
ture have  been  deduced  from  this  feature  of 
the  observance.  It  has  been  maintained  that  the 
Supper  had  originally  no  specific  reference  to  the 
death  of  Christ  and  that  this  significance  was 
imported  into  it  at  a  later  time  by  Paul.*  But, 
while  it  is  legitimate  to  argue  that  a  feast  of 
gladness  cannot  have  been  a  mere  commemora- 
tion of  the  great  tragedy,  we  cannot  infer  that  it 
was  dissociated  from  it  altogether.  Jesus  himself,  I 
according  to  the  Gospel  record,  foresaw  in  his] 
death  the  necessary  transition  to  the  victory  of  his 
cause,  and  by  means  of  the  Supper  pointed  his  dis- 
*  This  is  the  view  taken  by  Heitmiiller,  Spitta,  Reville,  etc. 


202        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

ciples  beyond  the  apparent  ruin  to  the  triumph. 
As  they  recalled  the  circumstances  in  which  it  had 
been  instituted  they  may  well  have  connected  it 
with  the  hope  that  sustained  Jesus  in  the  face  of 
death  rather  than  with  the  death  itself.  This 
was  the  more  natural  as  the  death  had  now  issued 
in  the  victorious  resurrection  which  had  given  a 
new  meaning  to  the  hope.  Any  other  mood  than 
that  of  rejoicing  must  have  appeared  false  to  the 
spirit  of  the  ordinance  as  it  had  been  conceived 
by  Jesus  himself. 

These,  then,  are  the  chief  aspects  of  the  Supper 
which  are  brought  to  our  knowledge  by  the  frag- 
mentary statements  in  Acts,  but  it  is  evident 
that  they  have  little  light  to  throw  on  the  cen- 
tral question  as  to  the  meaning  attached  to  the 
rite  by  the  first  disciples.  In  order  to  find  some 
answer  to  this  question  it  will  be  necessary  to 
bring  the  scanty  data  of  Acts  into  relation  with 
the  narratives  of  the  institution  of  the  Supper 
and  with  the  knowledge  we  have  gained  concern- 
ing the  character  and  aims  of  the  new  community. 

The  institution  of  the  Supper  is  described  by 
all  three  Synoptic  writers  as  well  as  by  Paul  in 
the  familiar  passage  of  I  Corinthians,  and  the 
several  accounts  all  vary  in  important  respects 
from  one  another.  These  differences  seem  to  have 
arisen  not  so  much  from  any  dissension  regarding 
the  facts  as  from  the  interpretations  placed  upon 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  203 

them  in  various  circles.  Since  the  ordinance  con- 
sisted of  symbolic  actions,  the  meaning  of  which 
was  far  from  self-evident,  it  was  customary  to  add 
words  of  elucidation,  and  these  in  the  course  of 
time  became  interwoven  with  the  traditional  for- 
mulae. A  comparison  of  our  extant  accounts 
sufficiently  illustrates  this  process.  "\Miere  Mark 
simply  states  the  fact  "they  all  drank  of  it," 
Matthew  attributes  to  Jesus  himself  the  command: 
"  Drink  ye  all  of  it."  To  the  formula  concerning 
the  blood  of  the  covenant  he  adds  the  explanatory 
clause  "for  the  remission  of  sins."  The  words  in 
Paul's  account,  "Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me," 
are  unknown  to  Mark  and  Matthew,  and  are,  no 
doubt,  introduced  by  Paul  himself  to  enforce  the 
intention  of  Jesus  that  the  rite  should  be  repeated. 
How  easily  such  additions  might  slip  in  we  can 
see  from  the  close  of  Paul's  narrative,  where  it  is 
uncertain  whether  Paul  is  appending  a  comment  of 
his  own  or  continuing  the  words  of  Jesus.  The 
accretions  which  have  thus  overlaid  the  funda- 
mental ritual  of  the  Supper  would  probably  be 
recognised  at  first  in  their  true  character,  but  the 
task  of  disengaging  them  is  now  one  of  extreme 
difficulty.  It  would  be  rash  to  assume,  with  some 
modern  critics,  that  the  rite  as  enacted  by  Jesus 
was  practically  unaccompanied  by  any  words  de- 
scriptive of  its  purpose,  but  the  formulae  he  em- 
ployed must  have  been  of  the  simplest  and  briefest. 
There  could  have  been  no  room  for  divergent  ex- 


204         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

planations  if  the  authentic  words  had  themselves 
been  fully  adequate. 

Our  accounts  differ,  moreover,  not  only  as  to 
the  details  of  the  institution  but  as  to  its  whole 
setting  and  occasion.  Did  it  coincide  with  the 
Passover  meal  or  was  it  a  new  rite  founded  inde- 
pendently of  the  Passover?  It  is  well  known  that 
in  the  Fourth  Gospel  the  death  of  Christ  is  as- 
signed to  the  day  preceding  the  feast  of  Passover, 
so  that  his  last  Supper  with  his  disciples  was 
separated  by  a  day  from  the  Passover  meal.  By 
itself  the  evidence  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  is  pre- 
carious, and  is  especially  so  on  a  point  like  this 
where  the  evangelist  was  tempted  to  indulge  in 
his  favourite  symbolism  by  making  the  death  of 
Jesus  contemporaneous  with  the  slaying  of  the 
paschal  lamb.  But  the  Johannine  date  is  sup- 
ported by  the  inherent  probabilities  of  the  case. 
The  desire  of  the  authorities,  as  Mark  himself  tes- 
tifies, was  to  secure  the  removal  of  Jesus  on  a  day 
that  would  not  clash  with  the  solemnities  of  the 
Passover  feast,  and  there  is  no  evidence  that  they 
were  hindered  in  the  execution  of  their  plan.  In- 
deed, a  close  examination  of  Mark^s  own  narra- 
tive seems  to  reveal  a  certain  awkwardness  and 
inconsistency,  as  if  some  earlier  tradition  of  a 
supper  previous  to  the  Passover  had  been  dis- 
placed by  the  later  one.  It  has  to  be  recognised 
that  if  John  was  tempted  to  bring  the  death  of 
Jesus  into  relation  with  the  slaying  of  the  lamb 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  205 

the  Synoptic  writers  may  likewise  have  been  in- 
fluenced by  a  theological  motive.  Luke,  more 
particularly,  does  not  conceal  his  anxiety  that 
the  Supper  should  be  regarded  as  the  meal  in 
which  the  Passover  found  its  true  fulfilment. 
The  Jewish  feast,  with  all  that  it  recalled  and  sig- 
nified, is  now  to  be  superseded  by  the  real  Pass- 
over. 

The  problem  does  not  admit  of  any  definite 
solution,  and  perhaps  its  bearings  on  the  import 
of  the  Supper  are  not  so  vital  as  many  writers 
have  assumed.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  if  the 
Supper  did  not  actually  coincide  with  the  Pass- 
over meal  it  yet  took  place  at  the  Passover  sea- 
son when  men's  minds  were  occupied  with  the 
thought  of  the  sacred  ordinance.  To  Jesus,  who 
had  eagerly  desired  to  eat  this  Passover  with  his 
disciples  before  he  suffered,  the  coming  feast 
must  have  appealed  the  more  solemnly  and  im- 
pressively since  he  knew  that  he  would  not  share 
it.  The  ideas  associated  with  it,  the  practice  and 
symbolism  of  the  cherished  observance,  would 
naturally  determine  his  action  as  he  presided  at 
the  Supper.  On  the  other  hand,  even  if  we  could 
prove  that  the  new  rite  sprang  directly  out  of  the 
Passover  meal,  it  would  have  to  be  recognised  as 
something  new.  Jesus  did  not  provide  a  sub- 
stitute for  the  Jewish  feast.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  disciples,  until  after  the  days  of  Paul,  con- 
tinued to  hold  the  Passover  along  with  their 


206         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

countrymen — betraying  no  consciousness  that  the 
daily  or  weekly  Supper  had  taken  its  place.  The 
Supper  must  be  regarded  as  an  entirely  new  rite, 
and  any  attempt  to  explain  it  as  a  replica  or  a 
modification  of  the  older  feast  can  only  confuse 
us  as  to  its  purpose.  None  the  less,  it  originated  \ 
in  close  connection  with  the  Passover  meal  and 
has  so  far  to  be  interpreted  in  the  light  of  Passover 
ideas.  The  conflict  of  evidence  concerning  the 
true  date  of  the  Last  Supper  serves  to  impress 
on  us  these  two  facts,  and  they  need  equally  to  be 
borne  in  mind. 

The  four  New  Testament  accounts  of  the  in- 
stitution of  the  Supper  fall,  broadly  speaking, 
into  two  groups — Matthew  and  Mark  as  against 
Paul  and  Luke.  Matthew's  divergences  from 
Mark  are  all  of  the  nature  of  explanatory  additions 
which  have  little  value  in  helping  us  back  toward 
a  more  original  or  even  an  alternative  version. 
In  the  case  of  Luke  and  Paul,  however,  we  are 
confronted  with  a  problem  the  full  significance  of 
which  has  only  been  appreciated  in  recent  years. 
Half  of  Luke's  account  (Luke  22  :  196-20)  is  an 
almost  exact  reproduction  of  the  parallel  passage 
in  I  Corinthians;  the  other  half  is  independent 
alike  of  the  Pauline  and  the  Marcan  versions.  It 
is  important  to  observe  that  this  section  of  Luke's 
narrative  forms  by  itself  a  complete  account  of 
the  Supper.    ''And  he  received  a  cup,  and  when 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  207 

he  had  given  thanks  he  said,  Take  this  and  divide 
it  among  yourselves;  for  I  say  unto  you,  I  will  not 
drink  henceforth  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine  until  the 
kingdom  of  God  shall  come.  And  he  took  bread, 
and  when  he  had  given  thanks  he  brake  it  and 
gave  to  them  saying.  This  is  my  body."  The 
verses  which  follow  would  require  us  to  suppose 
that  the  cup  was  reduplicated  as  at  the  Passover 
meal.  In  the  view  of  many  critics,*  the  short  text 
of  Luke  is  the  original  one,  and  has  been  supple- 
mented from  I  Corinthians  by  some  scribe  who  was 
anxious  to  bring  it  into  conformity  with  the  now 
established  usage.  The  fact  that  the  supplemen- 
tary verses  are  wanting  in  manuscripts  of  the 
Western  type  lends  a  considerable  support  to  this 
theory.  Yet  it  must  not  be  accepted  too  hastily, 
for  not  only  is  the  manuscript  evidence  for  the 
longer  version  exceedingly  strong,  but  the  intro- 
duction of  the  tw^o  cups  would  be  quite  in  keeping 
with  Luke's  obvious  desire  to  assimilate  the  Sup- 
per to  the  Passover  meal.  It  seems  difficult  to 
deny,  however,  that  there  is  a  fusion  of  tw^o  sepa- 
rate accounts,  and  whether  it  is  due  to  Luke  or  to 
some  later  editor  is  a  matter  of  minor  importance. 
In  the  short  text  of  Luke  we  have  preserved  to  us 
a  third  independent  tradition,  which  has  to  be 
considered  along  with  those  recorded  by  Paul  and 
Mark;  but  we  cannot  accept  without  reserve  the 
widely  prevalent  view  that  it  is  the  oldest  of  the 
*  E.g.,  Heitmiiller,  Wellhausen,  J.  Weiss. 


208         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

three  traditions.  In  a  matter  affecting  the  ritual 
of  the  chief  act  of  Christian  worship,  Luke's 
preference  would  be  given  not  necessarily  to  the 
oldest  and  best-authenticated  version,  but  to  that 
which  supported  the  usage  of  his  own  church. 

From  a  comparison  of  the  various  narratives 
three  facts  appear  to  stand  out  concerning  which 
the  tradition  was  unanimous:  (1)  that  Jesus  dis- 
tributed bread  and  wine  to  his  disciples;  (2)  that 
in  dispensing  the  bread  he  spoke  the  words,  "Thisl 
is  my  body";  (3)  that  in  connection  with  the  cup; 
he  declared  that  he  would  next  drink  it  with  his 
disciples  at  the  Messianic  banquet  in  the  kingdom 
of  God.  As  regards  this  last  point,  it  is  true  that 
the  words — in  themselves  so  characteristic  of  the 
language  of  Jesus — are  wanting  in  the  narrative 
of  Paul,  but  he  adds  a  clause  which  suggests  them 
in  a  sort  of  paraphrase:  "Ye  do  show  the  Lord's 
death  till  he  come." 

The  chief  difficulties  gather  around  the  mysteri- 
ous words,  "  This  is  my  body, " — words  which  in  all 
the  accounts  are  placed  at  the  centre,  as  indicating 
the  true  purpose  of  the  Supper.  From  the  time 
of  the  Fourth  Gospel  onward  it  has  been  custom- 
ary to  interpret  them  in  the  terms  of  a  mysti- 
cal theology,  and  controversialists  have  read  into 
them  all  manner  of  impossible  meanings  in  order 
to  force  them  into  the  service  of  some  particular 
dogma.  Modern  criticism  holds  aloof  from  these 
prepossessions  and  tries  to  understand  the  words 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  209 

simply  in  their  context  and  in  their  relation  to  the 
aims  and  conceptions  of  Jesus.  In  recent  years 
the  interpretation  of  the  words,  as  of  the  Supper 
generally,  has  been  largely  guided  by  the  sugges- 
tion contained  in  a  passage  of  Paul:  "The  cup 
of  blessing  which  we  bless,  is  it  not  the  communion 
of  the  blood  of  Christ?  The  bread  which  we  break,  j 
is  it  not  the  communion  of  the  body  of  Christ? 
For  we,  being  many,  are  one  loaf,  one  body;  for 
we  are  all  partakers  of  that  one  loaf"  (I  Cor.  10  : 
16,  17).  Paul  here  illustrates  the  unity  of  the 
Christian  church  from  the  symbolism  of  the 
Supper.  As  one  loaf  is  broken  up  and  divided 
among  the  communicants,  so  all  have  part  in  one 
common  life.  In  their  diversity  they  yet  consti- 
tute the  one  body  of  Christ,  by  fellowship  with 
whom  they  are  brought  into  union.  A  similar 
idea  seems  to  find  expression  in  the  eucharistic 
prayer  of  the  "Didache,"  which  in  all  likelihood 
is  a  fragment  of  a  traditional  liturgy:  "As  this  ^ 
broken  bread  was  scattered  upon  the  mountains,  \ 
and  being  gathered  together  became  one,  so  may 
thy  church  be  gathered  together  from  the  ends  of  j 
the  earth  into  thy  Kingdom."  On  the  ground  of 
these  evidences  it  is  contended  that  the  Supper 
was  originally  a  feast  of  brotherhood  and  that 
Jesus  had  himself  instituted  it  for  this  purpose. 
At  his  farewell  meeting  with  his  disciples  he  gave 
a  consecration  to  that  fellowship  around  a  com- 
mon table  which  had  marked  them  as  brethren. 


210         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

He  impressed  upon  them  that  after  his  death  they 
were  to  remain  united,  conscious  that  they  were 
bound  together  in  his  cause  and  that  he  himself 
was  still,  in  some  manner,  present  with  them. 
In  this  sense,  it  is  argued,  the  enigmatical  words 
of  the  formula  are  to  be  explained.  Jesus  bade 
his  disciples  think  of  the  bread  as  the  pledge  and 
the  symbol  of  his  own  presence.  Partaking  of  it, 
they  were  to  feel  that  they  were  still  his  comrades 
and  that  their  loyalty  to  the  one  Master  was  the 
bond  that  united  them. 

This  explanation  of  the  rite  and  its  accompany- 
ing words  has  commended  itself  to  many  scholars, 
but  on  the  face  of  it  appears  strained  and  unnat- 
ural. No  ingenuity  can  fairly  construe  the  words, 
"This  is  my  body,"  as  a  command  to  observe  the 
Supper  as  a  feast  of  brotherhood.  Moreover,  the 
passages  which  are  urged  in  proof  of  the  theory  are 
found,  on  closer  examination,  to  have  little  bear- 
ing on  it.  Paul's  reference  to  the  "one  loaf"  as 
typical  of  the  unity  of  all  Christians  is  dependent 
on  his  peculiar  doctrine  that  the  church  is  the 
body  of  Christ.  By  a  turn  of  fanciful  imagery 
he  finds  this  doctrine  implied  in  the  ritual  of  the 
Supper,  but  he  does  not  intend  his  words  to  be 
taken  literally.  When,  in  the  following  chapter, 
he  comes  to  speak  directly  of  the  significance  of 
the  bread,  he  connects  it  solely  with  the  death  of 
Christ.  As  for  the  prayer  in  the  "Didache,"  it 
has  only  a  superficial  correspondence  with  PauPs 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  211 

conception  of  "one  loaf,  one  body."  The  idea 
expressed  in  it  is  a  purely  eschatological  one — the 
bread  compounded  of  scattered  grains  of  corn 
symbolising  the  reunion  of  believers  in  the  coming 
kingdom  of  God.  It  is,  indeed,  certain  that  the 
Supper,  from  the  very  outset,  was  a  bond  of 
Christian  brotherhood;  this  has  ever  been  one  of 
its  most  cherished  functions  in  the  worship  of  the 
church.  But  this  does  not  imply  that  Jesus  in- 
stituted it  wholly  or  mainly  for  such  a  purpose. 
We  may  conjecture,  rather,  that  its  meaning  as  a 
bond  of  union  was  rooted  in  some  deeper  meaning 
which  was  present  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  and  which 
was  fully  recognised  by  his  first  disciples. 

What,  then,  was  the  primary  import  of  the 
Supper,  the  import  which  is  somewhere  hidden 
in  the  central  words:  "This  is  my  body"?  In 
order  to  discover  some  answer  to  this  question 
there  are  several  considerations  that  must  be 
borne  in  mind.  (1)  Jesus  was  consciously  on  the 
verge  of  his  death,  and  the  thought  of  it  at  that 
moment  must  have  coloured  all  his  other  thoughts. 
His  action  at  the  Last  Supper  must  be  inter- 
preted in  the  closest  relation  to  his  death.  (2) 
The  death,  as  he  conceived  it,  was  something  more 
than  a  sad  separation  from  his  companions.  He 
believed  that  it  was  divinely  ordained  and  that 
by  means  of  it,  in  some  way,  the  kingdom  was  to 
be  brought  nearer.  A  thought  of  this  kind  is 
plainly  involved  in  his  words  describing  the  Supper 


212         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

as  a  prelude  to  the  Messianic  banquet.  (3)  The 
Supper,  whether  it  coincided  with  the  Passover 
meal  or  not,  was  affected  by  the  thoughts  and 
memories  that  clustered  around  the  Passover. 
At  this  season  his  countrymen  were  observing 
their  great  national  festival.  They  were  being 
reminded  anew  not  only  that  they  were  brethren 
but  that  they  were  united  in  a  high  calling  as  the 
chosen  people  of  God. 

When  these  circumstances  of  the  Supper  are 
taken  together  we  seem  to  be  guided  at  least  to 
a  probable  explanation  of  its  purpose  and  mean- 
ing. Jesus  was  about  to  surrender  his  life  in  the 
conviction  that  thus,  according  to  the  divine  plan, 
he  would  bring  in  the  kingdom.  He  was  to  die 
as  "a  ransom  for  many,"  inaugurating,  by  his 
own  sacrifice,  a  new  and  happier  order  into  which 
many  would  enter.  And  by  his  action  at  the 
Supper  he  formally  bestowed  on  each  one  of  his 
disciples  a  portion  in  the  approaching  kingdom. 
The  sacrifice  he  was  about  to  make  was  his  own 
personal  act,  but  he  identified  them  with  it  so 
that  they  might  claim  their  share  in  the  fulfil- 
ment that  would  ensue.  Partaking  in  this  or- 
dinance, they  were  adopted  as  heirs  of  the  king- 
dom. As  the  Passover  meal  was  the  token  of 
membership  in  the  commonwealth  of  Israel,  so  the 
participation  in  this  Supper  was  to  seal  the  mem- 
bers of  the  new  community  which  would  come  into 
being  through  his  death. 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  213 

By  means  of  this  interpretation  we  can  dis- 
cover in  the  words,  "This  is  my  body/'  a  real  and 
intelligible  meaning — a  meaning,  too,  that  fits 
in  with  the  historical  circumstances  and  with  the 
teaching  of  Jesus  as  a  whole.  He  had  learned,  if 
we  may  trust  the  evidence  of  our  Gospels,  to 
contemplate  his  death  in  the  light  of  ideas  sug- 
gested by  the  prophecy  of  the  suffering  servant. 
His  body  given  up  to  death  was  to  be  accepted  as 
the  "ransom"  which  would  avail  for  many.  He 
sought  to  declare  to  his  disciples  that  they  would 
have  their  part  in  the  "ransom,"  that  they  were 
represented  in  his  individual  act;  and  this  he  did 
by  a  symbolism  that  suggested  itself  at  the  mo- 
ment. The  bread  that  lay  before  him  on  the  table 
was  something  that  could  be  divided,  distributed, 
assimilated;  so  was  it  with  his  body  offered  in 
sacrifice.  The  act  was  his  own  act,  but  he  granted 
to  his  disciples  that  they  should  participate  in  it 
and  so  obtain  their  share  in  his  victory. 

The  words,  "This  is  my  body,"  have  their 
counterpart,  according  to  our  records,  in  another 
saying,  spoken  at  the  distribution  of  the  cup. 
Mark  and  Paul  agree,  although  with  minor  dif- 
ferences, in  assigning  to  Jesus  the  words  concern- 
ing a  "new  covenant,"  ratified  in  his  blood,  of 
which  the  wine  was  a  symbol.  Before  we  con- 
sider the  more  radical  problem  affecting  this  part 
of  the  Supper  narratives  it  may  be  well  to  de- 


214         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

termine  how  the  words  have  to  be  understood. 
What  is  the  precise  meaning  of  the  term  BcaOtj/cT), 
so  important  for  its  bearing  not  only  on  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Supper  but  on  the  whole  thought  of 
primitive  Christianity? 

In  the  ordinary  Greek  of  the  first  century 
haOrjKT]  had  undoubtedly  the  well-understood 
meaning  of  a  "will,"  and  in  recent  years  the  at- 
tempt has  been  made  to  establish  this  as  the 
normal  New  Testament  usage.*  The  Supper 
would  thus  become  Jesus*  bequest  to  his  disciples 
— the  testament  he  delivers  to  them  immediately 
before  his  death.  It  is  evident,  however,  that  the 
words  attributed  to  him  are  an  echo  of  those  of 
Moses,  "Behold  the  blood  of  the  covenant  which 
the  Lord  hath  made  with  you,"  f  ^^^  \iqtq.  the 
supposed  meaning  is  excluded.  Moreover,  it  is 
incompatible  with  the  idea  of  a  new  covenant, 
which  is  emphasised  by  Paul  although  omitted  by 
Mark.  Even  less  adequate  is  another  interpreta- 
tion put  forward  to  support  the  theory  that  the 
Supper  was  in  its  essence  a  feast  of  brotherhood. J 
The  word  hiaOr^KT],  it  is  argued,  must  be  taken  in 
its  sense  of  an  "alliance,"  and  implies  nothing 
more  than  that  Jesus  ordained  a  new  bond  to 
unite  his  followers.    On  linguistic  if  on  no  other 

*Cf.  Deissmann,  "Paulus,"  102;  Dibelius,  "Das  Abend- 
mahl." 

t  Ex.  24  :  8. 

i  This  view  is  advocated  by  R^ville,    "  Les  Origines  do 

TEucharistie." 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  215 

grounds  this  meaning  is  excluded.  The  sort  of 
"alliance"  which  is  denoted  by  the  term  BiadrJKr) 
is  a  formal  convention  between  two  parties,  not 
the  uniting  of  a  group  of  men  in  a  bond  of  com- 
radeship. In  view  of  the  religious  tradition,  which 
in  this  case  must  have  been  decisive,  we  have 
little  choice  but  to  take  BtadijKr]  in  its  Old  Testa- 
ment sense  of  a  "covenant,"  and  the  real  diffi- 
culty consists  in  the  exact  definition  of  the  Old 
Testament  term.  Originally,  no  doubt,  its  re- 
ligious, like  its  ordinary,  meaning  was  that  of  an 
agreement  between  two  parties  as  to  their  recip- 
rocal obligations,  but  in  the  later  Old  Testament 
period  this  idea  of  contract  passes  out  of  sight. 
God's  authority  is  absolute — he  does  not  treat 
with  men  upon  conditions  but  simply  imposes 
his  sovereign  will.  Thus  the  word  comes  to  sig- 
nify a  declaration  on  the  part  of  God  whereby,  in 
accordance  with  his  gracious  purpose,  men  are 
placed  in  a  certain  relation  to  himself.*  This 
meaning  plainly  underlies  the  classical  passage  in 
Jeremiah, t  to  which  the  conception  of  a  "new 
covenant"  must  ultimately  be  traced.  As  he 
looks  forward  to  the  promised  consummation, 
the  prophet  declares  that  Israel  will  at  last  be- 
come God's  people  in  very  truth.  Formerly  they 
had  been  unfaithful  to  the  vocation  he  had  marked 

*  An  able  discussion  leading  to  this  result  will  be  found  in 
Behm,  "Diatheke." 
t  Jer.  31  :  31  #. 


216         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

out  for  them,  but  in  the  days  to  come  he  will 
write  his  laws  upon  their  hearts.  "They  shall  be 
my  people,  and  I  will  be  their  God."  In  our  ac- 
counts of  the  Supper  Jesus  reverts  to  this  pro- 
phetic utterance,  which  presents  in  its  loftiest 
form  the  Old  Testament  expectation  of  the  king- 
dom. He  affirms  that  hereafter  God  will  bring 
men  into  a  new  relation  to  him,  choosing  for  him- 
self a  people  that  will  realise  the  true  destiny 
of  Israel.  And  as  the  ancient  covenant  was 
ratified  with  a  sacrifice,  the  blood  of  which  was 
sprinkled  on  the  people,  so  Jesus  offered  the  cup 
to  his  disciples  as  "the  new  covenant  in  my 
blood." 

It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  that  this  part  of 
the  Supper  tradition  is  beset  with  grave  diffi- 
culties, so  much  so  that  we  can  hardly  accept  it 
without  some  misgiving.  (1)  The  whole  refer- 
ence to  the  blood  of  the  covenant  is  omitted  in  the 
short  text  of  Luke.  (2)  In  the  Marcan  version, 
which  is  repeated  by  Matthew,  the  words  "of 
the  covenant"  are  introduced  awkwardly  and 
have  all  the  appearance  of  a  later  addition  (toOto 
i<7TLV  TO  alfid  fjLOv  T^9  Biadij/CTj^  TO  eiC')(yvv6ixevov  irrrep 
TToXXwi/).  (3)  If  the  Mosaic  precedent  was  in 
Jesus'  mind — and  this  is  clearly  suggested  by  the 
formula — it  is  difficult  to  explain  the  drinking 
of  the  cup;  we  should  rather  have  expected  a  sym- 
bolic act  of  sprinkling.  (4)  Jesus'  reference  to 
his  blood  is  obviously  meant  to  be  parallel  to  the 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  217 

previous  reference  to  his  "body.''  But  if  this 
parallel  had  been  intended  by  him  he  would  not 
have  said,  "  This  is  my  body, "  for  acofia  is  a  com- 
prehensive term  denoting  the  whole  personality, 
but:  "This  is  my  flesh."  (5)  It  is  one  of  the  most 
certain  data  of  the  narrative  that  in  connection 
with  the  cup  he  spoke  of  the  time  when  he  would 
drink  the  wine  new  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  If 
we  accept  the  words  concerning  the  blood  of  the 
covenant  we  must  suppose  that  he  accompanied 
the  distribution  of  the  cup  with  two  separate  say- 
ings; and  not  only  so,  but  that  he  passed  over  to 
a  wholly  different  sphere  of  thought  and  imagery. 
When  due  weight  is  allowed  to  all  these  difficul- 
ties we  are  compelled  to  feel  that  in  the  incident 
of  the  cup  the  authentic  tradition  has  been  over- 
laid by  subsequent  reflection.  The  church  was 
anxious  to  equate  its  solemn  ordinance  with  that 
which  had  ushered  in  the  history  of  Israel.  Like- 
wise a  sacrificial  doctrine  of  the  death  of  Christ 
had  gradually  developed  itself  and  reacted  on 
the  theory  of  the  Supper.  It  would  relieve  the 
narrative  of  many  perplexities  if  we  supposed  that 
Jesus  gave  the  cup  simply  by  way  of  anticipation 
of  the  Messianic  feast.  The  two  parts  of  his  action 
at  the  Supper  would  then  connect  with  one  an- 
other in  a  natural  sequence.  By  the  distribution 
of  the  bread  he  adopted  his  disciples  into  the  new 
community  that  would  be  realised  through  his 
death.    Then  he  offered  them  the  cup  as  a  pledge 


218'       THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

of  their  reunion  with  him  as  a  redeemed  people 
in  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  significant  that  already  in  the 
days  of  Paul  the  Supper  had  become  associated 
with  the  idea  of  the  New  Covenant.  The  words 
of  the  formula  may  be  unhistorical,  but  they 
afford  us  an  all-important  clew  to  the  meaning 
attached  to  the  Supper  by  that  primitive  church 
which  stood  in  immediate  relation  to  Jesus.  In 
language  borrowed  from  the  Old  Testament  the 
church  expressed  what  it  believed  to  be  his  es- 
sential purpose  in  the  institution  of  the  rite.  He 
was  aware  that  by  his  death  fulfilment  would  be 
given  to  the  promise  of  the  kingdom.  God  would 
form  for  himself  a  new  community,  a  true  Israel, 
which  would  know  his  will  and  in  which  his  pur- 
poses would  at  last  be  realised.  As  Moses  by 
the  sprinkling  of  blood  had  consecrated  Israel  as 
God's  people,  so  the  disciples  were  now  admitted 
to  their  supreme  privilege  as  children  of  the 
kingdom.  The  conception  of  the  New  Cove- 
nant was  henceforth  normative  in  Christianity. 
It  was  construed,  in  the  process  of  time,  by  means 
of  theological  categories  which  were  alien  to  the 
thought  of  Jesus,  but  essentially  it  was  in  harmony 
with  his  own  teaching.  The  church  embodied 
it  in  the  ritual  of  the  Supper  because  it  expressed 
more  clearly  than  any  other  conception  the  ulti- 
mate meaning  of  the  rite. 

We  find,  then,  as  we  examine  the  Supper  narra- 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  219 

tives,  that  almost  at  every  step  we  are  brought  face 
to  face  with  insoluble  problems;  yet  amidst  all  the 
confusion  certain  broad  results  seem  to  emerge. 
Jesus  had  partaken,  with  his  disciples,  of  what  he 
knew  to  be  their  last  meal  together,  and  the  oc- 
casion was  doubly  sacred  because  the  season  was 
that  of  Passover.  Possessed  with  the  conviction 
that  through  his  approaching  death  the  kingdom 
would  break  in,  he  desired  to  give  a  pledge  to  his 
followers  that  they  would  share  with  him  in  his 
victory.  By  an  impressive  symbolism,  suggested 
by  the  meal,  he  identified  them  with  his  act  of 
sacrifice,  thereby  securing  to  them  their  place  in 
the  future  community  of  God's  people.  At  a 
later  time  this  action  of  Jesus  was  rightly  inter- 
preted in  terms  of  the  covenant  idea.  Jeremiah 
had  foretold  a  day  when  God  would  make  a  new 
covenant  with  Israel — in  other  words,  would  es- 
tablish a  new  and  higher  relation  between  himself 
and  his  people.  This  promise  had  now  reached 
fulfilment.  The  disciples  of  Jesus,  adopted  by 
him  as  participants  in  his  death,  had  entered  on 
their  higher  vocation  as  the  chosen  people  of  God. 

As  we  now  return  from  this  investigation  of  the 
origin  of  the  Supper  to  the  place  which  it  occupied 
in  the  primitive  church,  an  important  question 
falls  to  be  considered.  Did  Jesus  institute  the 
rite  with  the  deliberate  purpose  that  it  should  be 
repeated  from  time  to  time?     Such  an  intention 


220         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

is  made  explicit  in  the  Pauline  formula,  repro- 
duced in  the  longer  text  of  Luke:  "Do  this  in  re- 
membrance of  me."  These  words,  however,  are 
not  found  in  the  other  narratives,  and  the  omis- 
sion cannot  be  accidental.  The  observance  had 
so  rooted  itself  in  the  custom  of  the  church  that 
if  Jesus  had  left  an  express  command  for  its  rep- 
etition the  fact  would  have  been  emphatically 
recorded.  We  can  only  regard  the  formula  given 
by  Paul  as  a  later  addition,  supplying  a  want 
which  may  have  caused  misgivings.  It  is,  indeed, 
possible  that  even  if  Jesus  did  not  enjoin  the 
repetition  he  made  it  clear  from  his  mode  of  ob- 
serving the  rite  that  he  meant  it  to  remain  as  a 
constant  ordinance.  But  here  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  he  does  not  seem  to  have  contemplated 
the  formation  of  a  church  with  stated  rites  and 
institutions.  In  the  very  act  of  dispensing  the 
Supper  he  declared  his  belief  that  the  consum- 
mation was  near  and  that  he  would  presently 
drink  the  wine  new  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  Thus 
we  have  no  ground  for  assuming  that  he  meant 
the  ordinance  to  be  repeated.  On  the  contrary, 
we  are  left  with  the  impression  of  an  act  performed 
once  for  all  at  a  culminating  moment  by  way  of  a 
farewell  pledge. 

How,  then,  are  we  to  account  for  the  undoubted 
fact  that  the  disciples  from  the  first  adopted  the 
Supper  as  their  characteristic  rite  and  daily  re- 
peated it?    The  explanation  must  be  sought  not 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  221 

in  some  express  commandment  they  had  received 
from  Jesus  but  in  the  significance  which  the  rite 
possessed  for  them.  They  believed — if  our  inter- 
pretation has  been  correct — that  by  means  of  the 
Supper  Jesus  had  confirmed  them  in  their  privi- 
lege as  heirs  of  the  kingdom.  He  had  called  them 
into  a  new  covenant  whereby  they  were  acknowl- 
edged as  the  true  Israel  of  God.  On  its  claim  to 
be  the  new  community,  destined  to  inherit  the 
coming  age,  the  whole  life  of  the  church  was 
founded,  and  we  cannot  wonder  that  care  was 
taken  to  perpetuate  the  ordinance  which  indorsed 
that  claim.  Day  by  day  the  believers  re-enacted 
the  Supper  as  it  had  been  observed  by  Jesus.  In 
this  manner  they  recalled  the  assurance  he  had 
given  them  and  kept  alive  in  their  hearts  the  con- 
sciousness of  their  great  vocation.  Each  meeting 
of  the  church  was  signalised  by  the  repetition  of 
the  Supper,  for  by  this  act  it  recited,  as  it  were,  the 
grand  charter  which  had  constituted  it  the  church. 
In  one  sense,  indeed,  there  was  something  more 
than  a  mere  repetition  of  the  rite  that  had  been 
celebrated  by  Jesus.  That  first  observance  of  the 
Supper  had  still  involved  an  element  of  anticipa- 
tion. The  disciples  were  admitted  to  a  privilege 
on  which  they  could  not  fully  enter  until  the 
death,  whereby  it  would  be  secured  to  them,  had 
been  accomplished.  But  now  the  condition  was 
fulfilled  and  Jesus  had  taken  his  place  as  Lord. 
His  people  could  think  of  themselves  as  in  very 


222         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

truth  the  elect  community  in  which  the  powers  of 
the  new  age  were  already  operative.  We  can 
understand,  therefore,  the  peculiar  import  which 
attached  to  the  Supper  from  the  beginning  and 
which  rendered  it  the  natural  focus  of  mystical 
feeling  and  speculation.  At  this  ordinance  the 
believers  were  withdrawn  from  the  world  and 
realised  in  their  fellowship  with  one  another  that 
they  were  the  children  of  the  kingdom  and  had 
part  in  the  new  life.  They  not  only  anticipated 
the  reunion  with  Christ  at  the  Messianic  banquet, 
but  knew  it  in  some  measure  as  a  present  reality. 
When  we  thus  apprehend  the  meaning  of  the 
Supper  the  indications  given  us  in  the  book  of 
Acts  assume  a  fresh  value  and  explain  themselves 
more  fully.  The  rite  was  celebrated  with  glad- 
ness, for  it  brought  with  it  in  some  sense  a  fruition 
of  that  hope  on  which  the  Christian  life  was  con- 
centrated. Jesus  had  departed  into  the  unseen 
that  he  might  be  Lord  in  the  promised  kingdom, 
and  while  they  partook  of  his  Supper  his  people 
could  feel  that  they  were  united  with  him  and 
shared  his  victory.  Again,  although  it  was  com- 
bined with  the  social  meal,  the  Supper  was  an  act 
of  worship  and  is  mentioned  by  the  writer  of 
Acts  along  with  the  prayers.  For  the  disciples  it 
was  the  pledge  of  that  new  relation  in  which  they 
now  stood  to  God.  Through  Christ  they  had  be- 
come his  elect  people,  and  their  worship  hence- 
forth was  all  pervaded  by  this  sense  of  a  closer 


THE  LORD'S  SUPPER  223 

communion  with  God.  Once  more,  it  was  the 
seal  and  declaration  of  Christian  brotherhood. 
By  means  of  the  Supper  the  disciples  were  not 
only  united  in  comradeship  round  the  memory  of 
a  beloved  Master  but  were  reminded,  to  use  the 
words  of  Paul,  that  they  formed  one  body.  Jesus 
had  separated  them  from  the  world  as  the  com- 
munity of  the  kingdom.  The  bread  that  was 
broken  among  them  was  symbolical  of  the  one 
life,  the  one  higher  calling,  of  which  they  had  all 
alike  become  partakers. 

In  the  primitive  observance,  therefore,  the  way 
was  already  prepared  for  that  estimate  of  the 
Supper  which  found  expression  in  the  later  doc- 
trine. It  was  inevitable  that  in  process  of  re- 
flection and  under  the  many  alien  influences 
that  acted  on  Christianity  the  meaning  of  the 
rite  should  be  subjected  to  new  interpretations. 
Apocalyptic  ideas  were  explained  in  the  terms  of 
Hellenistic  mysticism.  Beliefs  that  were  originally 
simple  and  concrete  were  brought  into  ever  closer 
relation  to  a  speculative  theology.  But  the  point 
of  departure  for  all  the  later  development  was 
the  primitive  conception  of  the  "new  covenant," 
whereby  the  people  of  Christ  received  their  in- 
heritance in  that  kingdom  which  was  to  be  real- 
ised through  his  death.  On  this  conception  the 
church  was  founded,  and  it  was  bequeathed  to 
the  first  disciples  by  Jesus  himself. 


LECTURE  IX 

STEPHEN 

The  advent  of  Stephen,  followed  almost  im- 
mediately by  his  death,  marks  the  first  great 
turning-point  in  the  history  of  the  church.  It 
hastened  the  separation  of  the  new  religion  from 
Judaism.  It  led  to  the  dispersion  of  the  primitive 
community  and  in  this  manner  prepared  the  way 
for  an  extended  mission.  Above  all,  it  had  for 
its  direct  outcome  the  accession  to  Christianity 
of  its  foremost  convert  and  Apostle.  From  this 
time  onward  the  church  at  Jerusalem  falls  into 
the  background  and  the  main  interest  centres  on 
the  personality  and  career  of  Paul. 

Stephen  thus  signalises  the  transition  from  the 
earlier  to  the  later  development,  and  we  think  of 
him  chiefly  in  his  relation  to  that  new  and  larger 
phase  of  Christian  history  which  he  inaugurated. 
His  work  merges  in  that  of  Paul,  of  whom  in 
more  than  a  superficial  sense  he  was  the  fore- 
runner. But  in  point  of  historical  fact  Stephen 
belonged  to  the  early  community,  and  perhaps 
he  has  a  greater  significance  for  the  time  that  pre- 
ceded than  for  the  time  that  followed  him.  For 
one  moment  the  obscurity  that  overhangs  the 
224 


STEPHEN  225 

initial  period  is  illuminated  by  the  passage  across 
it  of  this  memorable  figure;  and  we  are  able  to 
form  some  estimate  of  the  new  movement  as  it 
had  now  shaped  itself,  after  several  years  of  silent 
growth. 

The  episode  of  Stephen  is  the  more  instructive 
as  it  is  recorded  for  us  in  sources  which  we  can 
employ  with  some  degree  of  confidence.  Here,  if 
an>^^here  in  the  early  chapters  of  the  book  of 
Acts,  we  seem  to  find  evidence  that  Luke  is  avail- 
ing himself  of  authentic  documents  which  he  has 
not  revised  so  carefully  but  we  may  still  detach 
the  several  strands  out  of  which  his  narrative  is 
woven.  This  conviction,  forced  on  us  by  detailed 
study  of  the  historical  section,  makes  it  highly 
probable  that  in  his  record  also  of  the  speech  of 
Stephen  Luke  has  a  primitive  source  before  him. 
This  probability  is  raised  almost  to  a  certainty 
when  we  examine  the  speech  itself.  (1)  The  ful- 
ness with  which  it  is  reported  is  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  the  scale  of  the  book.  It  is  difficult 
to  believe  that  Luke,  with  his  fine  sense  of  liter- 
ary fitness,  would  have  encumbered  his  narrative 
with  this  long  dissertation  unless  it  had  come  down 
to  him  in  some  genuine  source  which  he  was 
anxious  to  preserve.  (2)  It  is  not  only  unduly 
long  but  irrelevant,  so  much  so  that  all  writers  on 
the  apostolic  age  have  been  puzzled  to  discover 
its  exact  purpose.  The  charges  on  which  Stephen 
is  on  trial  for  his  life  are  left  unanswered;  no  care 


226        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

is  taken  to  make  the  speech  appropriate  to  the 
audience  and  the  circumstances.  If  Luke  had 
himself  composed  it  he  would  surely  have  thrown 
into  it  something  of  that  dramatic  force  of  which 
he  was  a  master.  A  similar  opportunity  is  of- 
fered him  later  in  the  book,  and  we  have  only  to 
contrast  this  colourless  speech  of  Stephen  with 
the  magnificent  defence  of  Paul  before  Agrippa. 
There  appears,  indeed,  to  be  good  ground  for  the 
conjecture  that  the  speech  ought  properly  to  have 
been  connected  with  Stephen's  disputing  in  the 
synagogue  as  described  in  the  previous  chapter.* 
Luke  either  failed  to  apprehend  its  true  setting 
or  purposely  transposed  it  to  its  present  place  in 
order  to  invest  the  abstract  discussion  with  a 
more  human  interest.  It  may  be  regarded  not 
as  the  defence  of  Stephen  before  the  council  but 
as  a  summary  of  Stephen's  preaching  preserved 
in  some  document  which  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  Luke.  (3)  The  argument,  irrelevant  to  its  cir- 
cumstances, is  itself  obscure.  We  have  the  im- 
pression, as  we  try  to  make  out  its  drift,  that  it 
represents  a  mode  of  Christian  apologetic  which 
in  Luke's  day  had  already  become  unintelligible. 
On  a  superficial  view  the  argument  attributed  to 
Paul,  in  his  speech  at  Antioch  in  Pisidia,t  follows  a 
somewhat  similar  line.    Paul  begins,  like  Stephen, 

*  So  Bacon  in   his  valuable  monograph,  "The  Speech  of 
Stephen." 

t  Acts  13  :  16  #. 


STEPHEN  227 

with  a  survey  of  the  early  history  of  Israel,  trac- 
ing it  down  from  the  bondage  in  Egypt  to  the 
reign  of  David;  and  from  this  coincidence  it  has 
been  inferred  that  both  speeches  are  the  free  com- 
position of  Luke.  But  a  closer  comparison  seems 
to  make  it  evident  that  the  later  speech  is  an 
imitation  of  the  earlier  one  and  betrays  a  mis- 
understanding of  its  real  meaning.  The  histori- 
cal survey  is  suddenly  broken  off,  as  if  the  writer 
could  not  tell  what  conclusions  he  ought  to  draw 
from  it.  It  serves  merely  as  a  prelude  which 
might  well  be  dispensed  with,  while  for  Stephen 
it  obviously  had  some  vital  bearing  on  the  whole 
claim  and  import  of  Christianity. 

In  view  of  these  various  indications  we  may  be 
reasonably  confident  that  in  the  speech  of  Stephen 
we  have  an  early  document  incorporated,  not 
altogether  skilfully,  in  the  book  of  Acts.  There 
is  no  intrinsic  evidence  that  Stephen  was  the  au- 
thor of  the  speech,  and  Luke  may  have  assigned 
it  to  him  in  the  same  manner  as  he  attributes 
other  anonymous  fragments  of  early  preaching 
to  Peter.  But  he  apparently  has  some  reason 
to  believe  that  it  represents  Stephen's  mode  of 
teaching;  and  from  the  care  with  which  he  has 
preserved  it,  in  spite  of  its  seeming  irrelevance, 
we  may  conclude  that  it  had  actually  come  down 
to  him  under  the  name  of  Stephen.  It  may  be 
hazardous  to  maintain,  as  some  scholars  have 
ventured  to  do,  that  in  this  chapter  of  Acts  we 


228        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

have  the  earliest  extant  document  of  Christian 
literature;  but  there  is  no  fair  reason  to  doubt 
that  it  bears  the  impress  of  primitive  ideas. 
The  results  to  which  we  have  been  led  along  pre- 
vious lines  of  inquiry  will  receive  a  new  confirma- 
tion if  they  can  be  shown  to  explain  and  illustrate 
the  speech  of  Stephen. 

In  the  introduction  to  his  account  of  Stephen, 
Luke  incidentally  informs  us  of  two  facts,  which 
are  of  the  highest  interest  and  importance.  (1) 
He  indicates,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  Helle- 
nistic element  had  already  become  prominent  in 
the  church — so  prominent  that  special  measures 
had  to  be  taken  to  meet  its  needs.  Nothing  has 
been  told  us  in  the  earlier  chapters  concerning  this 
large  accession  of  foreign-born  Jews.  We  sud- 
denly learn  for  the  first  time  that  they  had  been 
peculiarly  attracted  to  the  new  movement  and 
now  formed  a  considerable  section  of  its  adherents. 
From  this  fact  it  has  been  argued  that  Christian- 
ity, even  in  its  initial  period,  bore  something  of 
an  alien  character  and  made  its  strongest  appeal 
to  those  who  were  outside  of  the  strict  pale  of 
Judaism.  But  reasoning  of  this  kind  is  highly 
precarious.  We  know  from  various  sources  that 
the  Law  was  no  less  jealously  guarded  by  the 
foreign  than  by  the  Palestinian  Jews.  Paul  en- 
dured his  chief  persecutions  at  the  hands  of  his 
countrymen  of  the  Dispersion;  and  it  was  the 


STEPHEN  229 

Hellenists,  as  we  learn  from  this  very  chapter  of 
Acts,  who  instituted  the  proceedings  against 
Stephen.  Indeed,  it  may  be  presumed  that  the 
foreign  Jews  resident  in  Jerusalem  were  in  a 
special  degree  attached  to  Judaism,  since  it  can 
hardly  have  been  any  other  than  a  religious  motive 
which  had  led  them  to  settle  in  the  holy  city.  At 
the  same  time  we  have  to  remember  the  distinc- 
tion, already  considered,  between  the  ceremonial 
and  the  speculative  sides  of  Jewish  piety.  Jews 
who  had  lived  under  the  influences  of  the  larger 
gentile  world  were  familiar  with  ideas  which 
played  little  part  in  the  ordinary  religion  of  Pales- 
tine. They  had  learned  to  be  receptive  of  new 
truth  even  while  they  held  with  uncompromising 
firmness  to  their  observance  of  the  Law.  The 
philosophical  movement  of  Alexandria  was  only 
the  most  notable  of  many  eJBPorts  on  the  part  of 
Jews  of  the  Dispersion  to  read  fresh  meanings  into 
the  tenets  of  Judaism.  Their  very  ardour  for  the 
Law  inspired  them  with  the  desire  to  present  it  in 
such  a  fashion  that  it  might  appeal  to  the  world 
as  a  universal  message. 

It  may  be  conjectured  that  this  liberality  of 
thought  among  the  Hellenists  had  something  to 
do  with  their  attraction  to  Christianity.  They 
were  not  committed,  like  the  majority  of  Pales- 
tinian Jews,  to  one  unvarying  type  of  belief. 
They  welcomed  the  breadth  and  suggestiveness 
of  the  Christian  teaching  and  perceived  its  larger 


230         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

possibilities  when  these  were  still  hidden  from  the 
original  disciples.  The  grand  theological  develop- 
ment of  the  next  generation  was  entirely  due  to 
the  Hellenist  Paul  and  his  companions,  and  we 
may  believe  that  their  work  had  already  its  com- 
mencement at  Jerusalem.  The  foreign-born  Jews 
who  had  found  their  way  into  the  community 
took  up  the  new  teachings  in  a  bold,  speculative 
spirit.  They  worked  them  out  along  unexpected 
lines  to  issues  from  which  the  older  Apostles  were 
inclined  to  shrink. 

(2)  Here,  perhaps,  we  find  the  true  explanation 
of  the  other  fact  which  is  recorded  in  this  notice 
in  Acts.  The  two  sections  of  the  church,  we 
are  told,  fell  into  disagreement  over  a  matter  of 
practical  administration.  The  Hellenists  believed 
that  their  poor  were  being  neglected  in  the  ar- 
rangements made  for  the  common  meal,  and  in 
order  to  pacify  them  seven  officers  were  appointed 
for  the  special  purpose  of  watching  over  their  in- 
terests. Luke  records  the  names  of  these  seven, 
and  it  may  be  assumed  that  he  found  them  in 
some  authentic  document,  for  with  two  exceptions 
they  are  otherwise  quite  unknown.  Now  it  is 
probably  true  that  the  dissension  in  the  church 
had  its  immediate  cause  in  practical  difficulties 
such  as  Luke  describes.  The  attempt  to  maintain 
the  principle  of  all  things  in  common  must  have 
given  rise  to  constant  friction,  as  soon  as  the 
church  had  outgrown  its  small  beginnings.   Charges 


STEPHEN  231 

of  favouritism  and  injustice  would  easily  gain 
credence,  and  the  alien  members  would  be  es- 
pecially sensitive  to  any  fancied  slight  on  the  part 
of  the  Palestinian  majority.  But  when  we  read 
between  the  lines  of  Luke's  narrative,  it  becomes 
almost  certain  that  the  dissension  must  have  had 
other  and  deeper  motives  than  he  would  have  us 
believe.  It  is  evident  that  the  Seven  were  by  no 
means  appointed  for  the  sole  duty  of  supervising 
the  distribution  of  charity.  Stephen  at  once  be^ 
gan  an  active  propaganda  in  the  Hellenistic  syna- 
gogues, and  his  missionary  activity  appears  to 
have  been  directly  connected  with  his  new^  office. 
Philip,  likewise,  comes  before  us  from  this  time 
onward  in  his  character  of  an  evangelist.  More- 
over, there  is  no  indication  that  the  Apostles  gave 
up  their  "service  of  tables,'*  confining  themselves 
henceforward  to  the  preaching  of  the  Word. 
Their  duties,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  continued  to 
be  exactly  the  same  as  before  the  Seven  were  ap- 
pointed to  relieve  them.  What  seems  to  have  been 
effected  was  a  separation  not  of  duties  but  of 
spheres  of  activity.  The  church  agreed  to  divide 
itself  into  two  sections,  the  Palestinian  majority 
remaining  as  it  was,  under  the  supervision  of  the 
Apostles,  while  the  Hellenists  formed  a  group  by 
themselves,  with  their  own  leaders.  In  this  man- 
ner a  solution  was  sought  for  what  threatened  to 
become  a  grave  difficulty. 

It  is  hard  to  believe  that  this  division  of  the 


232         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

community  was  brought  about  solely  by  the 
trivial  cause  suggested  in  Luke's  narrative.  We 
may  guess,  rather,  that  the  practical  difference 
was  only  the  index  of  a  much  more  serious  cleav- 
age, which  for  some  time  had  been  growing  mani- 
fest. The  Hellenists  were  developing  a  type  of 
Christianity  which  was  not  entirely  consistent 
with  that  of  the  Apostles,  and  while  full  liberty 
was  granted  them  it  was  deemed  better  that  they 
should  remain  apart.  It  may  be  that  the  decision 
adopted  at  a  later  time  by  the  council  of  Jerusalem 
was  influenced  by  the  precedent  of  this  earliest 
dispute  in  the  church.  In  both  cases  an  agree- 
ment was  sought  by  means  of  a  friendly  separa- 
tion. And  as  Paul  and  Barnabas  in  the  later  in- 
stance were  left  free  to  evangelise  the  gentiles, 
while  the  older  Apostles  preached  to  the  Jews,  so 
now  the  missionary  field  was  divided.  The  Seven 
were  intrusted  not  only  with  the  supervision  of 
the  foreign-born  converts,  but  with  the  work  of 
propaganda  among  the  Hellenists;  and  it  was  in 
the  prosecution  of  this  work  that  Stephen  was 
accused  and  put  to  death. 

The  procedure  against  Stephen  is  described  in 
a  confused  and  contradictory  manner,  owing  to 
the  attempt  to  blend  together  two  different  ac- 
counts. On  the  one  hand,  we  are  told  that  he 
was  brought  to  a  formal  trial  before  the  council, 
in  presence  of  which  he  delivered  his  speech  of 


STEPHEN  233 

defence.  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  left  with  the 
impression  that  he  was  the  victim  of  an  out- 
break on  the  part  of  an  angry  mob  which  took 
the  law  into  its  own  hands.  That  there  were 
proceedings  of  some  kind  before  the  council  can 
hardly  be  doubted,  in  view  of  the  subsequent 
events.  A  persecution  arose  against  the  Hellenis- 
tic wing  of  the  church,  and  was  carried  out  under 
oflScial  sanction  by  emissaries  duly  accredited  by 
the  high  priest.  The  council  would  not  thus  have 
indorsed  the  action  of  a  lawless  mob  unless  it  had 
itself  in  some  fashion  taken  the  initiative.  At 
the  same  time,  when  we  consider  the  restricted 
powers  allowed  to  the  council  by  the  Roman  ad- 
ministration, we  cannot  believe  that  a  sentence  of 
death  was  passed  on  Stephen.  For  that  part,  the 
narrative  in  Acts  itself,  although  it  describes  a 
death  by  stoning  according  to  the  regular  forms 
of  Mosaic  Law,  says  nothing  about  a  sentence.  It 
gives  us  to  understand  that  the  trial  was  inter- 
rupted, and  that  orderly  proceedings  were  sud- 
denly forgotten  in  an  outburst  of  passion.  The 
precise  facts  cannot  now  be  recovered.  So  far  as 
we  can  gather,  Stephen  died  in  a  popular  tumult, 
but  with  the  connivance  of  the  council,  which  had 
already  set  on  foot  some  kind  of  inquiry  into  his 
teaching.  A  formal  charge  had  been  lodged 
against  him,  to  which  his  speech  is  the  ostensible 
reply,  and  the  very  irrelevance  of  the  speech  is 
proof  that  the  charge  has  not  been  merely  in- 
vented for  the  sake  of  introducing  it. 


234         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

The  charge  is  recorded  in  two  forms,  and  here 
again  we  may  discern  the  attempt  to  make  room 
for  two  narratives,  originally  distinct.  According 
to  one  version  (Acts  6  :  11)  false  witnesses  were 
suborned,  who  testified:  "We  have  heard  this 
man  speak  blasphemous  words  against  Moses  and 
against  God."  Later  on  (6  :  13)  the  false  wit- 
nesses declare  before  the  council,  "This  man 
ceaseth  not  to  speak  blasphemous  words  against 
this  holy  place  and  the  Law";  the  specific  ground 
of  the  accusation  being  then  added :  "  For  we  have 
heard  him  say  that  this  Jesus  of  Nazareth  shall 
destroy  this  place,  and  shall  change  the  customs 
which  Moses  delivered  us."  Thus,  in  one  record, 
the  gravamen  of  the  charge  is  disloyalty  to  the 
Law;  in  the  other,  hostility  to  the  temple  and  its 
ritual.  This  second  version  may  fairly  be  con- 
sidered the  more  accurate  one.  In  the  speech  that 
follows,  Stephen  says  nothing  that  could  be  con- 
strued into  treason  against  the  Law;  he  assumes, 
rather,  that  reverence  for  the  Law  is  common 
ground  between  himself  and  his  adversaries. 
Moreover,  in  its  second  form  the  charge  has  a 
certain  correspondence  with  what  we  know  to 
have  been  the  attitude  of  the  primitive  church. 
The  belief  undoubtedly  was  held  by  the  disci- 
ples that  Jesus  would  presently  return  to  inaugu- 
rate a  new  order,  and  this  belief  may  be  recognised 
with  sufiicient  clearness  in  the  prejudiced  report 
of  the  "false  witnesses." 


STEPHEN  235 

It  is  not  a  little  significant  that  the  charge 
against  Stephen  bears  a  close  analogy  to  that 
which  was  brought  against  Jesus  himself.  He  was 
accused  of  saying,  "I  will  destroy  this  temple 
and  build  it  again  in  three  days";  and,  though  we 
are  assured,  as  in  the  case  of  Stephen,  that  the 
accusation  was  made  by  "false  witnesses,"  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that  the  words  were  in  some 
form  actually  spoken.  The  fourth  evangelist  re- 
peats the  saying  as  a  genuine  utterance  of  Jesus 
and  adds  an  explanation  of  its  meaning  which  is 
obviously  fanciful.  Ignorant  as  we  are  of  the 
context  of  the  saying  and  the  occasion  on  which 
it  was  spoken,  we  cannot  determine  its  true  im- 
port— this  had  apparently  become  a  matter  of 
conjecture  as  early  as  the  Fourth  Gospel.  But 
it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  Stephen  con- 
sciously took  up  the  words  of  Jesus,  interpreting 
them  in  the  sense  which  is  suggested  in  the  last 
part  of  his  speech  (7  :  48^.).  God  is  not  con- 
fined in  temples  made  with  hands.  In  the  king- 
dom which  was  presently  to  set  in  the  relation 
of  men  to  God  would  be  an  immediate  and 
spiritual  one  and  the  temple  with  its  ordinances 
would  be  necessary  no  longer. 

We  pass,  then,  to  the  consideration  of  the 
speech  itself,  which  cannot,  as  we  have  seen,  have 
been  delivered  at  the  trial  in  answer  to  the  given 
charge.     It  consists  for  the  most  part  of  a  long 


236        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

historical  argument  and  closes  with  a  passage  of 
stern  denunciation;  from  beginning  to  end  there 
is  nothing  to  suggest  a  speech  of  defence  before 
a  judicial  court.  We  may  even  doubt  whether 
it  is  a  transcript  of  any  definite  speech.  More 
probably  it  is  meant  to  be  an  example  of  the  type 
of  argument  which  Stephen  was  wont  to  employ 
in  his  disputings  with  the  Hellenistic  Jews.  The 
record  may  have  been  drawn  up  after  his  death, 
partly  by  way  of  tribute  to  a  revered  teacher  and 
partly  to  afford  guidance  to  subsequent  mission- 
aries who  were  engaged  in  similar  work. 

The  speech,  as  we  have  it,  ends  abruptly  with 
the  declaration  that  the  murder  of  the  "Just 
One"  was  of  a  piece  with  that  disobedience  to 
God  which  had  marked  the  whole  course  of  Jew- 
ish history.  "Ye  have  received  the  Law  by  the 
disposition  of  angels,  and  have  not  kept  it."  It 
is  difficult  to  believe  that  the  original  document 
stopped  short  at  this  point,  and  the  probability 
is  that  Luke  himself  abridged  it  in  order  to  en- 
hance the  effect  of  the  scene  that  follows.  The 
denunciation  of  the  unfaithful  people  has  not 
a  few  analogies  in  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
New;  and  in  the  light  of  these  we  may  guess  the 
nature  of  the  lost  conclusion.  It  would  set  forth 
the  inevitable  doom  that  waited  on  disobedience, 
and  this  threat  of  doom  would  merge  in  a  proph- 
ecy of  the  imminent  Parousia.  Jesus,  whom  the 
people  had  rejected  and  crucified,  was  about  to  re- 


STEPHEN  237 

turn  as  Messiah  and  summon  them  to  his  judg- 
ment. It  is  possible  that  in  the  later  words  of 
Stephen,  "Behold  I  see  the  heavens  opened,  and 
the  Son  of  man  standing  at  the  right  hand  of 
God,"  we  have  a  fragment  of  the  lost  ending  of 
the  speech  itself.  The  title,  "Son  of  man,"  which 
occurs  only  here  outside  of  the  Gospels,  is  uni- 
formly connected  by  Jesus  with  the  thought  of 
his  return  in  power.  Stephen  may  have  employed 
it  in  the  same  manner  while  he  set  before  his 
hearers  an  impressive  picture  of  the  Parousia  that 
was  just  at  hand. 

The  body  of  the  speech,  then,  consists  of  a 
historical  retrospect.  Many  scholars  have  tried 
to  see  in  it  a  complete  survey  of  the  history  of 
Israel  as  falling  into  three  main  periods:  (a)  from 
Abraham  to  Moses;  (6)  from  Moses  to  David; 
(c)  the  culminating  age  of  David  and  Solomon. 
But  a  regular  plan  of  this  character  cannot  be 
made  out.  We  have  not  so  much  a  consecutive 
survey  as  a  selection  of  certain  typical  and  out- 
standing episodes  in  the  history  of  the  ancient 
people;  Abraham  and  his  call,  the  life  of  Moses, 
the  building  of  the  temple. 

What  is  the  purpose  underlying  this  appar- 
ently aimless  retrospect  of  Old  Testament  history? 
Here  we  arrive  at  the  central  problem  of  the 
speech,  and  a  solution  has  been  sought  for  it 
along  a  great  number  of  diverging  lines.  Most 
of  the  explanations  have  proceeded  on  the  as- 


238         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

sumption  that  the  speech  is  Stephen's  answer 
to  the  charges  brought  against  him.  He  is  bent 
on  proving  that  his  doctrine  does  not  involve  a 
menace  to  the  Law,  that  he  does  not  disparage 
Moses  but  reveres  him,  that  it  is  not  he  but  the 
Jews  themselves  who  have  opposed  the  ordi- 
nances of  God.  But  the  attempt  to  explain  the 
speech  in  its  bearing  on  the  charges  only  serves 
to  make  evident  its  hopeless  irrelevance.  It  is 
inconceivable  that  any  man,  defending  himself 
against  definite  accusations,  should  have  gone  to 
work  in  this  roundabout  fashion.  The  charges 
may  have  been  founded  on  such  a  speech  as  that 
before  us,  but  it  cannot  be  construed  as  an  answer 
to  them.  When  we  neglect  the  artificial  setting 
of  the  speech  and  take  it  by  itself  as  a  Christian 
manifesto,  the  point  of  its  teaching  is  still  far  from 
clear.  Some  writers  have  found  the  cardinal 
verse  in  7  :  37:  "This  is  that  Moses  who  said  to 
the  children  of  Israel,  A  prophet  shall  the  Lord 
your  God  raise  unto  you  of  your  brethren,  like 
unto  me;  him  shall  ye  hear."  The  speech  thus 
resolves  itself  into  a  proof  of  the  Messiahship  of 
Jesus,  addressed  to  those  who  hold  fast  to  the 
authority  of  Moses.*  Others  regard  the  argu- 
ment as  turning  on  7:  51  or  7:  53,  where  Stephen 
accuses  the  Jews  of  having  always  resisted  the 
Holy  Ghost.  The  whole  survey  of  their  history 
has  had  for  its  purpose  this  exposure  of  their 
*  So  Gfrorer  and  Spitta. 


STEPHEN  239 

radical  alienation  from  God,  whose  chosen  people 
they  professed  to  be.  More  often  the  key  to  the 
speech  has  been  sought  in  7  :  48:  "Howbeit  the 
most  high  dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with 
hands."  Here,  it  is  maintained,  the  purpose  of 
the  long  review  of  Israelitish  history  comes  at  last 
to  light.  Stephen  has  been  bent  on  proving  that 
the  age-long  quest  of  Israel  has  been  for  a  spiritual 
religion  such  as  has  now  been  given  in  Christian- 
ity. Every  new  hope  of  a  resting-place  had  been 
in  vain,  for  God  will  not  take  up  his  abode  in  any 
earthly  temple.  The  more  recent  criticism  has 
abandoned  the  method  of  seeking  for  any  central 
verse  in  the  speech  and  would  explain  it  rather 
as  dealing  with  a  complex  of  ideas.  Thus  Bacon 
sees  in  it  a  discussion  of  the  three  institutions 
the  right  to  which  is  disputed  between  Jews  and 
Christians:  (a)  the  Abrahamic  inheritance;  (6) 
the  Mosaic  revelation;  (c)  the  Davidic  presence 
of  God  in  Zion.*  The  aim  of  the  speech  is  to 
show,  in  Alexandrian  fashion,  how  the  Old  Testa- 
ment institutions  were  not  final  but  typical,  and 
have  now  been  realised  in  Christianity. 

None  of  these  theories  can  be  regarded  as  fully 
adequate.  They  either  lay  stress  on  some  one 
aspect  of  the  argument  to  the  exclusion  of  others 
which  are  equally  important  or  they  resort  to 

*  Schumacher,  "Der  Diakon  Stephanus,"  also  makes  the 
speech  tmn  on  the  three  ideas  of  the  temple,  the  Law,  the 
Messiah. 


240        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

subtleties  of  interpretation  which  are  not  in 
keeping  with  the  character  of  the  speech.  It 
may  help  us  toward  a  clearer  apprehension  of  the 
speaker's  purpose  if  we  set  before  us  in  brief  sum- 
mary the  ideas  to  which  he  gives  prominence: 
(1)  Israel  is  the  chosen  people  of  God.*  (2)  As 
such  it  has  received  from  God  the  promise  of  an 
inheritance,  and  through  all  its  changing  experi- 
ences has  been  seeking  the  fulfilment  of  this 
promise. t  (3)  God  sent  to  his  people  a  succession 
of  leaders  to  guide  them  in  their  search,  but 
these  messengers  of  God  were  invariably  rejected. 
Moses  himself  was  disowned  in  his  lifetime  by 
those  whom  he  had  been  sent  to  deliver.  J  (4) 
The  search  for  the  promised  rest  has  been  always 
frustrated,  not  only  by  disobedience  but  by  the  il- 
lusory conditions  of  earthly  life.  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob  were  sojourners;  in  Egypt,  where  the 
people  expected  to  find  a  home,  they  became 
bondsmen;  under  Moses  they  wandered  in  the 
wilderness;  when  they  reached  the  land  of  prom- 
ise they  worshipped  in  a  moving  tabernacle;  the 
temple  itself  was  only  the  shadow  of  the  true 
house  of  God.  It  is  evidently  by  no  mere  ac- 
cident that  the  historical  survey  is  brought  to  a 
close  with  the  building  of  the  temple.  Although 
the  history  was  still  to  run  on  for  a  thousand 
years  it  was  completed  in  its  inward  meaning  by 

*  7  :  7,  32,  38.  f  5  :  7,  46-47. 

t9:23,  25/.,  35,  39/. 


STEPHEN  241 

that  event.  God^s  promise  to  Abraham  had  to 
all  appearance  reached  fulfilment.  Israel  had  se- 
cured its  earthly  inheritance  and  had  entered  into 
permanent  relation  to  God  by  means  of  a  fixed 
temple. 

When  the  main  ideas  of  the  speech  are  thus 
brought  together  we  can  scarcely  fail  to  perceive 
the  general  drift  of  the  speaker's  meaning.  He 
would  have  us  see  that  Israel,  through  the  whole 
course  of  its  history,  has  been  striving  in  vain  to 
fulfil  its  vocation  as  the  people  of  God.  Time 
after  time,  when  it  seemed  won  at  last,  the  goal 
had  receded  farther  into  the  distance.  But  the 
argument  has  little  purpose  unless  we  set  it 
against  the  background  of  a  thought  which  is 
throughout  in  the  speaker's  mind.  The  history 
of  Israel  has  had  its  outcome  in  the  birth  of  the 
Christian  church.  That  ideal  of  which  the  old 
Israel  fell  short  by  its  own  unfaithfulness  and  by 
the  restrictions  laid  upon  it  has  been  realised  in 
the  new  Israel.  This  is  the  aim  of  Stephen — to 
demonstrate,  in  the  light  of  Old  Testament  his- 
tory, that  the  Ecclesia  represents  the  true  people 
of  God. 

He  shows,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  church  is 
identical  with  the  ancient  Israel.  Ages  ago  God 
chose  for  himself  a  people,  and  its  history  has  been 
nothing  but  one  long  endeavour,  constantly  frus- 
trated, to  obtain  that  inheritance  to  which  it  was 
destined.     Under  one  leader  and  another  it  had 


242         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

seemed  to  come  within  reach  of  it,  but  after  each 
apparent  attainment  the  quest  had  to  be  resumed. 
The  Jews  are  not  to  think,  therefore,  that  the 
Christian  movement  is  a  breaking  away  from  the 
past;  it  takes  up  the  effort  of  the  past  and  brings 
it  to  a  consummation.  The  church  is  Israel, 
entering  at  last  on  the  inheritance.  It  is  sig- 
nificant that  in  one  place  Stephen  describes  the 
ancient  people  under  the  specific  name  of  "the 
Ecclesia  in  the  wilderness"  (7  :  38).  Here,  it 
may  be  said,  the  thought  which  pervades  the 
whole  speech  comes  for  a  moment  to  definite  ex- 
pression. But,  on  the  other  hand,  a  contrast  is 
drawn  between  the  nation  Israel  and  the  church. 
It  is  shown  that  the  people  as  a  whole  have  been 
consistently  disobedient,  and  have  so  thwarted 
God's  will  with  them.  Again  and  again,  when  he 
would  have  given  them  rest,  they  threw  them- 
selves back  into  the  life  of  aimless  wandering. 
He  had  sent  them  leader  after  leader,  whom  they 
had  failed  to  recognise.  Although  he  had  chosen 
them  to  be  his  people,  they  had  resisted  his  pur- 
pose and  had  proved  themselves  to  be  unworthy. 
Israel  as  a  nation  had  forfeited  its  right,  and  the 
promises  were  to  find  their  fulfilment  in  a  new 
Israel. 

Stephen  not  only  holds  that  the  past  history  of 
Israel  was  all  a  preparation  for  the  future  church, 
but  suggests  that  at  each  new  stage  it  in  some 
manner    foreshadowed    it.      The    successive    de- 


STEPHEN  243 

liverers  whom  God  had  sent  were  types  of  the 
coming  deliverer.  The  various  resting-places  to 
which  the  people  attained  under  their  leadership 
pointed  forward  to  the  ultimate  rest.  The  out- 
ward communion  with  God  which  Israel  had  en- 
joyed by  means  of  tabernacle  and  temple  was 
prophetic  of  a  higher,  spiritual  relation.  This 
strain  of  typology  that  runs  through  the  speech  is 
one  of  its  most  curious  and  perplexing  features, 
but  we  must  be  careful  not  to  make  too  much  of 
it.  At  the  most  it  is  only  incidental  to  the  main 
conception — that  Israel,  throughout  its  history, 
was  growing  toward  its  realisation  in  the  Chris- 
tian church.  Its  past  experience  was  full  of  an- 
ticipations and  presentiments  of  the  Ecclesia  in 
which  it  would  find  its  goal. 

Stephen  was  brought  to  trial  on  the  express 
charge  that  he  had  blasphemed  the  temple. 
The  charge,  according  to  Acts,  was  based  on  the 
testimony  of  "false  witnesses,"  but  we  have  in- 
dications in  the  extant  speech  that  criticism  of 
the  temple  and  its  ritual  formed  an  important 
element  in  his  teaching.  His  survey  of  the  his- 
tory of  Israel  leads  up  to  the  declaration  that  the 
temple  built  by  Solomon  was  only  temporary 
and  provisional,  for  "the  Most  High  dwelleth  not 
in  temples  made  with  hands."  It  is  in  this  fea- 
ture of  Stephen's  thought  that  we  are  probably  to 
detect  that  new  influence  which  was  introduced 


244        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

into  Christianity  by  the  Hellenists.  In  the  per- 
secution that  broke  out  after  Stephen's  death, 
they  alone  seem  to  have  been  involved,  and  their 
offence  was  no  doubt  the  same  as  that  which  was 
imputed  to  their  leader.  They  had  ventured  to 
call  in  question  the  cherished  institutions  of 
Judaism.  As  yet  they  had  no  thought  of  attack- 
ing the  Law,  but  they  had  disputed  the  permanent 
validity  of  the  temple  worship. 

Among  Hellenistic  Jews  the  temple  never  oc- 
cupied the  same  place  as  it  did  in  the  religious  life 
of  Palestine.  The  pious  Hellenist  indeed  regarded 
it  as  the  traditional  shrine  of  his  people,  and  con- 
tributed his  yearly  offerings  for  the  maintenance 
of  its  ordinances.  But  his  devotion  was  bound  up 
with  the  Law  much  more  than  with  the  temple. 
As  a  citizen  of  the  world  he  had  learned  to  throw 
off  the  narrow  conception  of  his  religion  as  a 
local  cult  and  secretly  resented  the  claims  of  the 
Jerusalem  priesthood.  After  the  destruction  of 
the  temple  it  became  the  object  of  passionate  re- 
gret and  longing,  and  the  later  literature  of  Judaism 
is  filled  with  lamentations  over  the  house  of  God, 
now  violated  by  the  heathen.  But  of  this  devo- 
tion there  is  little  trace  in  the  century  preceding. 
Outside  of  Palestine,  Judaism  regarded  the  temple 
with  a  certain  jealousy  and  emphasised  its  right 
to  stand  apart  from  it.  Among  the  Hellenistic 
converts  there  were  no  doubt  some  who  were 
already  impatient  of  the  temple,  and  their  in- 


STEPHEN  245 

stinct  of  revolt  would  be  strengthened  by  the 
Christian  teaching.  Jesus  had  revived  the  old 
prophetic  conception  of  religion.  He  had  made 
it  clear  that  the  service  of  God  did  not  consist 
in  sacrifices  but  in  obedience  to  his  will.  He  had 
done  away  with  that  old  covenant,  bound  up  with 
external  ordinances  and  prerogatives  of  race,  of 
which  the  temple  was  the  visible  symbol.  The 
original  disciples  do  not  appear  to  have  per- 
ceived that  the  new  beliefs  could  not  be  reconciled 
with  the  temple  worship,  but  the  Hellenists  were 
alive  to  the  inconsistency.  They  held  that  the 
new  community  had  entered  into  a  higher  re- 
lation to  God,  for  which  the  ancient  localised 
ritual  had  no  significance.  Apparently  it  was 
Stephen  who  first  gave  clear  expression  to  this 
belief  and  enforced  it  by  his  martyrdom.  But 
we  can  gather  from  the  persecution  which  im- 
mediately overtook  the  Hellenistic  Christians 
that  he  had  spoken  as  their  representative. 
Through  these  half-alien  converts  who  had  brought 
to  Jerusalem  the  influences  of  a  larger  culture 
Christianity  had  begun  to  feel  its  way  toward  its 
universal  mission. 

As  yet  the  criticism  of  Jewish  institutions  was 
directed  solely  against  the  temple.  Concerning 
the  Law,  which  was  the  true  substance  of  Judaism, 
Stephen  speaks  with  unabated  reverence.  It  is 
noticeable,  however,  that  he  departs  altogether 
from  the  attitude  of  Peter,  whose  speeches  are 


246         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

carefully  framed  so  as  to  conciliate  Jewish  senti- 
ment. He  breaks  out  into  an  open  attack  on  the 
Jews.  Their  rejection  of  Jesus  is  no  longer  at- 
tributed to  "ignorance,"  but  to  a  spirit  of  unbe- 
lief which  could  be  traced  through  all  their  past 
history  and  had  now  reached  its  culmination. 
This  arraignment  of  the  Jews  brings  us  within 
sight  of  the  final  rupture;  but  there  is  no  ground 
for  asserting,  with  some  historians,  that  Stephen 
anticipated  that  breach  with  Judaism  which  was 
effected  by  Paul.  The  invective  at  the  close  of 
the  speech  is  not  a  declaration  of  war  any  more 
than  the  similar  passages  in  the  preaching  of 
the  prophets  and  of  John  the  Baptist.  We  should 
probably  find,  if  the  lost  conclusion  could  be  re- 
covered, that  its  purpose  was  to  rouse  the  people 
to  a  true  repentance  in  view  of  the  approaching 
judgment.  It  was  indeed  Stephen  who  hastened 
the  conflict  with  Judaism  and  made  the  gentile 
mission  inevitable,  but  he  stood  himself  within 
the  primitive  community.  This  singular  position 
which  he  occupies  gives  him  his  chief  significance 
in  early  Christian  history. 

An  interesting  and  difficult  problem,  of  which 
New  Testament  criticism  has  taken  too  little  ac- 
count, is  suggested  by  the  affinity  of  the  speech  of 
Stephen  to  the  so-called  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 
Different  as  the  two  writings  are  in  character  and 
style  and  purpose,  they  have  at  least  the  following 


STEPHEN  247 

well-marked  features  in  common:  (1)  A  typo- 
logical value  is  discerned  in  the  facts  of  the  Old 
Testament  narrative.  (2)  The  life  of  Israel  is 
described  as  one  of  wandering — in  search  of  some- 
thing real  and  permanent.  (3)  The  failure  to 
enter  into  the  promised  "rest"  is  explained  from 
the  unbelief  of  the  people.  (4)  The  contrast  of 
Christianity  with  the  ancient  religion  turns  on 
ideas  which  are  connected  with  the  temple. 
(5)  Besides  these  main  points  of  agreement,  there 
are  similarities  in  detail;  e.  g.,  Moses  appears  as 
a  type  of  Christ;  *  emphasis  is  laid  on  the  con- 
struction of  the  tabernacle  after  a  heavenly  pat- 
tern.f  The  explanation  of  this  ajBBnity  between 
Hebrews  and  the  speech  of  Stephen  (which  could 
easily  be  demonstrated  in  greater  detail)  has  been 
sought  in  a  common  Alexandrian  influence.  If 
this  could  be  established  we  should  have  to  regard 
the  speech  as  a  comparatively  late  product,  and 
the  question  would  then  arise  how  this  Alexan- 
drian fragment,  so  little  adapted  to  his  purpose, 
came  to  be  introduced  by  Luke  into  his  account 
of  the  primitive  history.  But,  apart  from  such 
critical  diflBculties,  it  may  fairly  be  argued  that 
the  speech  is  distinguished  from  the  epistle  by 
the  pronounced  absence  of  the  Alexandrian  turn 
of  thought.     Old  Testament  sayings  and  inci- 

*  Acts  7  :  37  ^.;   Heb.  3:2^.    This  comparison  is  drawn 
nowhere  in  the  New  Testament  except  in  these  two  writings. 
t  Acts  7  :44;   Heb.  8  :  5. 


248         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

dents  are  not  interpreted  allegorically.  The 
temple  is  not  contrasted  with  the  higher  ideal 
sanctuary  but  with  the  universality  of  God's 
presence.  Jesus  is  not  invested  with  the  attri- 
butes of  the  Logos,  but  is  simply  the  Messianic 
Deliverer. 

It  is  not  too  bold  to  conjecture  that  the  true 
solution  of  the  problem  may  be  found  along  an- 
other line.  Instead  of  assuming  that  the  speech 
of  Stephen  is  tinged  with  later  philosophical 
speculation,  we  may  suppose  that  the  Epistle  to 
the  Hebrews,  in  spite  of  its  Alexandrian  colour- 
ing, perpetuates  a  mode  of  thought  which  had 
come  down  from  the  primitive  church.  The 
enigmatical  epistle  is  usually  classed  as  Deutero- 
Pauline,  but  there  is  hardly  another  New  Testa- 
ment writing  which  diverges  so  widely  from  the 
cardinal  Pauline  ideas.  What  it  possesses  in 
common  with  Paul  may  well  have  been  derived 
not  from  him  but  from  that  normal  Christian 
tradition  on  which  he  himself  was  dependent. 
It  needs  to  be  more  clearly  recognised  that,  al- 
though Paul  with  his  mighty  genius  determined 
the  main  current  of  Christian  thinking,  there  were 
other  streams  that  maintained  their  course  along- 
side of  Paulinism.  One  of  these  may  have  taken 
its  rise  from  the  teaching  of  Stephen.  As  time 
went  on  it  would  broaden  and  deepen  and  assimi- 
late to  itself  elements  from  the  prevailing  phi- 
losophy, while  still  preserving  its  continuity  with 


STEPHEN  249 

Stephen   and   through   him   with   the   primitive 
church. 

The  speech  of  Stephen,  then,  may  reasonably 
be  considered  as  an  authentic  document  of  pri- 
mary importance,  which  enables  us  in  some  mea- 
sure to  ascertain  the  bearings  of  Christian  thought 
at  the  close  of  the  initial  period.  Traces  of  the 
coming  development  are  already  discernible.  The 
church  has  been  invaded  by  new  forces  which  are 
breaking  down  its  alliance  with  Judaism  and 
moulding  it  for  the  task  that  lay  before  it  in  the 
gentile  world.  But,  in  the  main,  the  speech  is 
concerned  with  those  ideas  which  we  have  seen,  in 
the  course  of  our  investigation,  to  have  been  char- 
acteristic of  the  earliest  days.  To  the  mind  of 
Stephen  everything  depends  on  the  claim  of  the 
church  to  be  the  true  Israel.  God  had  made  a 
promise  to  his  people,  but  the  whole  course  of 
Jewish  history  had  proved  that  it  was  not  in- 
tended for  Israel  as  a  nation.  The  fulfilment  was 
reserved  for  a  new  community,  springing  out  of 
Israel  but  distinct  from  it;  and  the  condition  of 
membership  in  the  new  community  was  faith  in 
that  Jesus  whom  the  nation  had  rejected.  It  is 
not  a  little  remarkable  that  Stephen  hardly 
touches  on  what  we  might  consider  the  specific 
elements  of  Christian  belief.  Nothing  is  directly 
said  of  the  purpose  of  Jesus'  death,  of  his  resur- 
rection, of  his  Messianic  office.    He  is  described 


250         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

simply  as  the  "Just  One" — the  ideally  righteous 
man  of  whom  the  Old  Testament  leaders  had  been 
the  types  and  heralds.  This  apparent  neglect  of 
the  fundamental  Christian  ideas  may  be  partly 
set  down  to  the  controversial  intention  of  the 
speech.  Stephen  was  not  making  a  strictly  mis- 
sionary appeal,  but  was  "disputing  in  the  syna- 
gogue/' and  his  object  was  to  defend  the  Christian 
position  against  orthodox  Jews  who  would  urge  the 
validity  of  God's  promises  to  Israel.  But  the  pe- 
culiar line  of  argument  which  is  followed  in  the 
speech  cannot  be  wholly  accounted  for  by  the 
exigencies  of  controversy.  We  have  to  admit  that 
Stephen  insists  on  the  claim  of  the  church  to 
be  the  true  Israel  because  he  regards  this  as  the 
central  fact  in  the  Christian  message.  God  had 
promised  to  the  fathers  that  he  would  lead  his 
people  to  their  inheritance,  and  the  time  was  at 
hand  when  this  promise  should  be  fulfilled.  But 
the  people  which  he  had  contemplated  was  not 
the  nation.  Within  the  historical  Israel  there 
had  ever  been  a  hidden  Israel  of  God;  and  it  had 
now  realised  its  hope  in  that  new  community  which 
acknowledged  Jesus  as  Lord. 


LECTURE   X 

THE   EARLIEST   CHRISTIANITY 

With  the  persecution  that  ensued  on  the  death 
of  Stephen  the  initial  period  of  Christian  history 
came  to  an  end.  In  itself  the  persecution  was  not 
a  severe  one,  for  the  council  was  limited  in  its 
powers  by  the  Roman  administration  and  could 
only  enforce  such  minor  penalties  as  scourging 
and  imprisonment.  In  the  exercise  even  of  this 
modified  right  of  discipline  it  seems  to  have  pro- 
ceeded cautiously.  The  fact  was  recognised  that 
Stephen  had  been  the  leader  of  the  Hellenistic 
Christians,  and  the  action  of  the  council  affected 
only  this  foreign  section  of  the  church.  The 
Apostles,  who  would  have  been  the  first  victims 
in  any  real  attempt  to  suppress  the  new  movement, 
were  left  unmolested,  and  under  their  direction 
the  native  Christian  community  continued  to 
hold  its  own  at  Jerusalem.  None  the  less,  the 
persecution  was  followed  by  far-reaching  conse- 
quences. In  the  first  place,  the  Hellenists,  ex- 
pelled from  Palestine,  took  up  their  abode  in 
Damascus,  Antioch,  and  other  gentile  cities,  and 
from  this  time  onward  these  became  the  true  cen- 
tres of  the  propaganda.  Again,  the  more  advanced 
251 


252         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

type  of  Christianity  for  which  the  Hellenists  had 
stood  was  now  set  free  from  the  checks  that  had 
been  imposed  on  it  at  Jerusalem.  In  the  distant 
gentile  cities  it  was  able  to  develop  along  its  own 
lines  and  was  affected  still  further  by  influences 
from  without.  Once  more,  the  community  that 
remained  at  Jerusalem  began  to  change  its  char- 
acter, now  that  it  was  left  wholly  to  itself.  It  is 
probable  that  if  the  Hellenists  had  remained  they 
would  gradually  have  leavened  the  Jewish  section 
of  the  church  with  their  more  liberal  ideas,  and 
the  long  conflict  which  embittered  the  life  of 
Paul  might  have  been  unnecessary.  As  it  was, 
the  church  was  powerless  to  resist  the  encroach- 
ments of  Judaism.  Not  only  the  removal  of  the 
Hellenists,  but  the  events  that  had  caused  it, 
must  have  strengthened  the  tendency  to  reaction; 
for  it  was  now  evident  that  Jewish  sentiment  was 
alarmed.  Any  further  advance  might  precipitate 
that  breach  with  the  national  religion  which  the 
church,  as  a  whole,  was  anxious  to  avert. 

Thus  after  the  death  of  Stephen  the  two  sec- 
tions of  the  church  were  separated,  and,  while  the 
Hellenists  achieved  a  larger  freedom,  the  original 
community  stood  still  or  even  went  backward. 
Hitherto,  in  spite  of  all  external  bonds  with  Juda- 
ism, it  had  been  absorbed  in  its  own  mission  and 
had  worn  its  fetters  lightly.  Now  it  was  bur- 
dened with  the  feeling  that  at  all  costs  it  must 
preserve  its  loyalty  to  the  parent  religion.     This 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  253 

relapse  into  a  Jewish  Christianity  became  far 
more  pronounced  after  the  second  persecution 
under  Herod  Agrippa  a  few  years  later.  This 
second  persecution  was  more  serious  than  the 
first,  for  it  was  supported  by  the  power  of  the 
state,  now  restored  to  a  brief  independence.  It 
was  directed,  too,  not  against  a  party  but  against 
the  new  religion,  which  had  at  last  been  recognised 
as  dangerous.  At  least  one  of  the  Apostles  was 
put  to  death;  the  others  were  threatened  with  a 
like  fate,  and  only  saved  themselves  by  flight 
from  the  city.  Although  the  immediate  peril  was 
soon  brought  to  an  end  with  the  return  to  the  old 
political  conditions,  its  effects  on  the  Jerusalem 
church  appear  to  have  been  lasting.  How  it  hap- 
pened we  can  only  conjecture,  but  there  are  clear 
indications  that  during  the  enforced  absence  of 
Peter  and  his  colleagues  a  new  party  rose  to 
ascendancy.  Under  the  leadership  of  James  the 
community  at  Jerusalem  became  more  and  more 
Jewish  in  its  sympathies,  and  took  up  an  attitude 
of  ill-concealed  antagonism  to  the  progressive 
church  of  the  gentiles. 

It  by  no  means  follows  that  the  mother  church 
was  now  excluded  from  all  share  in  the  larger 
work  of  Christianity.  There  is  abundant  evidence 
that,  in  spite  of  all  reactionary  influences,  it 
maintained  a  vigorous  life.  Jerusalem  became  the 
centre  of  an  active  and  successful  mission  to  the 
outlying  regions  of  Palestine,  and  in  all  likelihood 


254         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

charged  itself  with  a  propaganda  among  various 
communities  of  the  Dispersion.  In  virtue  of  its 
traditions,  it  exercised  a  powerful  if  undefined 
authority  over  the  Christian  cause  throughout 
the  world.  The  church  at  Jerusalem  was  the 
ultimate  court  of  appeal  in  all  disputes  concerning 
worship  and  doctrine.  Its  practice  was  normative 
in  matters  of  ecclesiastical  custom.  The  adver- 
saries of  Paul  were  chiefly  formidable  because  they 
professed  to  speak  to  the  gentile  converts  with 
the  voice  of  Jerusalem.  Paul  himself,  amidst 
all  differences,  continued  to  cherish  a  genuine 
reverence  for  the  mother  church.  His  last  years 
of  freedom  were  largely  devoted  to  his  scheme  of 
a  collection  on  behalf  of  its  poorer  members;  and 
behind  the  other  motives  which  prompted  him 
to  this  work  there  may  have  been  the  idea  of 
confederating  the  scattered  churches  around  their 
natural  centre.  But  although  Jerusalem  thus  re- 
mained the  foremost  Christian  community  and 
only  lost  this  position  after  the  siege  and  destruc- 
tion of  the  city,  its  real  importance  was  confined 
to  the  initial  years.  It  was  then  that  it  made  its 
vital  contribution,  and  the  essential  history  of 
the  church  was  henceforth  enacted  on  a  different 
stage. 

That  early  contribution,  however,  was  of  in- 
calculable value.  In  those  first  years  the  church 
was  brought  into  existence  and  grew  to  the 
strength  which  enabled  it  to  undertake  its  world- 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  255 

wide  task.  In  those  years,  too,  the  main  beliefs 
of  Christianity  were  determined,  its  fundamental 
institutions  were  created.  The  Ecclesia,  as  it  took 
shape  at  Jerusalem,  became  the  model  of  all  those 
communities  which  in  the  course  of  the  next  cen- 
tury were  planted  far  and  wide  among  the  cities 
of  the  Roman  world.  An  endeavour  has  been 
made  in  the  preceding  chapters  to  understand  the 
aims  and  teachings  of  that  primitive  church  so 
far  as  they  can  be  ascertained  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  later  record.  It  only  remains  to  gather  up 
the  broad  results  of  the  investigation  and  to  form 
some  estimate  of  their  significance. 

As  we  pass  from  the  Gospels  to  the  book  of 
Acts,  we  find  it  difiScult  to  realise  that  we  are  fol- 
lowing a  continued  story — resumed  at  the  point 
where  it  had  been  interrupted.  It  is  not  merely 
that  the  supreme  figure  of  Jesus  is  now  removed. 
We  feel  as  if  his  life  had  become  distant  and 
unreal,  and  the  cause  to  which  he  had  devoted 
himself  had  given  place  to  another.  It  has  been 
generally  assumed  in  modern  criticism  that  the  con- 
tinuity of  the  movement  was  indeed  broken  by  the 
death  of  the  Founder.  In  consequence  of  the  great 
disaster,  his  work  had  fallen  into  ruin  and  had 
all  to  be  reconstructed,  slowly  and  tentatively, 
on  a  fresh  basis.  What  was  now  put  forward  as 
the  Christian  gospel  was  derived,  not  from  the 
teaching  of  Jesus,  but  from  a  given  interpretation 


256         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

of  his  person  and  of  the  crowning  facts  of  his 
death  and  resurrection.  His  own  gospel  had  been 
direct  and  simple  and  had  aimed  at  a  renewal  of 
the  moral  life  on  the  ground  of  a  truer  conception 
of  man's  relation  to  God.  This  simple  message 
was  now  invested  with  mystery  and  was  buried 
under  ever  new  layers  of  dogma  and  institution 
until  the  religion  of  Jesus  gave  place  to  the 
Catholic  system  of  the  centuries  following. 

Now,  it  may  be  granted  that  Jesus  was  con- 
cerned, in  the  last  resort,  with  a  few  great  prin- 
ciples, which  were  purely  religious  in  their  nature. 
He  revealed  God  as  the  Father,  and  taught  that 
the  right  attitude  to  him  is  one  of  trust  and  love. 
He  set  forth  in  words  and  exemplified  in  his  life 
the  true  righteousness,  which  consists  in  inward, 
spontaneous  obedience  to  the  will  of  God.  These 
were  the  vital  elements  in  his  message,  and  all 
the  rest  was  framework,  existing  for  the  sake  of 
them.  Nevertheless,  the  message  was  given  in 
that  framework.  Those  conceptions  which  we 
can  now  recognise  as  permanent  were  mingled 
with  others  which  were  borrowed  from  the  thought 
of  the  time  and  which  appealed  even  more  di- 
rectly to  the  minds  of  the  first  disciples.  In  order 
to  determine  the  relation  between  the  primitive 
church  and  Jesus,  we  must  take  account  not  only 
of  the  substance  of  his  teaching  but  of  those  tra- 
ditional forms  under  which  it  was  presented. 

We  are  here  confronted  with  a  problem  which 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  257 

is  involved  in  manifold  diflBculties  and  is  perhaps 
incapable  of  any  final  solution.  The  diflBculties, 
however,  are  ctiefly  connected  with  details  of 
interpretation,  and  these  ought  not  to  be  empha- 
sised in  such  a  manner  as  to  obscure  certain  broad 
facts  which  stand  out  with  suflBcient  clearness 
when  we  weigh  the  plain  evidence  of  the  Gospels. 
Jesus  attached  his  message  to  those  apocalyptic 
beliefs  to  which  the  preaching  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist had  now  given  a  mighty  impulse.  The  king- 
dom of  God — the  new  age  in  which  the  will  of 
God  would  absolutely  prevail — was  close  at  hand. 
As  heirs  of  this  new  age,  God  would  acknowledge 
not  the  children  of  Israel  as  a  people  but  those 
only  who  were  morally  worthy.  Jesus,  like  John, 
proclaimed  the  kingdom  and  called  on  men  to 
prepare  themselves  for  its  coming.  He  conceived 
of  it,  we  can  scarcely  doubt,  as  in  the  future — an 
entirely  new  order  which  would  be  ushered  in 
suddenly  and  miraculously  by  the  immediate  act 
of  God.  Yet  the  future  and  the  present  were 
blended  together  in  his  mind.  The  kingdom  was 
so  near  that  the  approach  of  it  could  be  felt  al- 
ready. Men  could  avail  themselves  of  its  powers; 
they  could  so  apprehend  its  higher  law  and  con- 
form their  lives  to  it  that  they  might  become  even 
now  the  children  of  the  new  age.  In  the  assur- 
ance that  the  kingdom  was  all  but  come,  Jesus 
gathered  around  him  a  company  of  followers  in 
whom  by  word  and  example  he  sought  to  eflPect  a 


258         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

radical  change  of  will.  His  purpose  was  that  they 
should  form  the  nucleus  of  that  new  people,  that 
redeemed  community,  which  God  would  set  apart 
for  himself  after  his  judgment  of  the  world.  It 
is  impossible  to  doubt  that,  at  least  in  the  later 
part  of  his  ministry,  Jesus  connected  the  coming 
of  the  kingdom  with  his  own  personality.  He 
claimed  to  be  himself  the  Messiah,  or  rather  an- 
ticipated that  he  would  be  raised  to  the  Messiah- 
ship  when  the  kingdom  was  on  the  point  of  open- 
ing. As  he  perceived  his  death  at  the  hands  of 
his  enemies  to  be  inevitable,  he  saw  in  it  the  di- 
vinely appointed  means  whereby  he  would  accom- 
plish his  vocation.  Offering  himself  for  death,  he 
would  become  "a  ransom  for  many"  and  thus 
overcome  all  those  hindrances  on  the  part  of  men 
which  delayed  the  fulfilment  of  God's  purpose. 
In  his  death,  too,  he  would  break  through  the 
limitations  of  his  earthly  life  and  rise  to  that  Mes- 
sianic glory  in  which  he  would  presently  return 
to  bring  in  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Such,  in  broad  outline,  were  those  conceptions 
which  Jesus  took  over  from  the  thought  of  his 
time  and  which  formed  the  background  of  his 
purely  religious  teaching.  For  us  they  have  be- 
come largely  unintelligible.  We  construe  them 
in  a  vague  spiritual  sense  or  forget  them  alto- 
gether in  our  concentration  on  the  essential  mes- 
sage of  which  they  were  the  setting.  But  to  the 
first  disciples  they  were  of  paramount  importance. 


V 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  259 

As  pious  Jews  they  had  grown  up  amidst  dreams 
of  the  kingdom,  and  Jesus  had  now  declared  that 
it  was  near;  he  had  died  to  hasten  its  advent,  he 
had  risen  in  power  to  transform  it  into  a  glorious 
reality.  For  the  earliest  believers  the  message  of 
Jesus  was  inseparable  from  the  apocalyptic  hope, 
and  in  this  fact  we  have  the  key  to  the  subsequent 
history. 

The  church  was  created,  if  we  look  only  to  its 
immediate  origin,  by  the  belief  that  Christ  had 
risen.  How  the  disciples  arrived  at  this  belief 
and  in  what  form  they  held  it  we  cannot  tell, 
but  we  know  that  they  accepted  it  as  the  very 
corner-stone  of  their  faith.  From  this  it  has  been 
inferred  that  primitive  Christianity  was  divorced, 
at  the  outset,  from  the  facts  of  the  Gospel  history. 
A  new  and  tremendous  event  had  broken  in  and 
had  half  obliterated  the  memory  of  past  days, 
even  in  the  minds  of  Jesus'  personal  followers. 
He  was  no  longer  the  Friend  and  Master  whom 
they  had  known,  but  the  exalted  Messiah.  His 
actual  deeds  and  purposes  were  forgotten  in  the 
thought  of  his  present  glory  and  the  work  he 
would  now  accomplish.  But  may  it  not  be  sug- 
gested that  precisely  here  we  can  discover  the 
root  error  of  the  usual  modern  interpretations  of 
the  early  history?  They  assume  that  the  death 
and  resurrection  were  new  and  disturbing  factors 
which  compelled  his  followers  to  reconstruct  all 


260        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

their  previous  ideas  of  Jesus.  His  teaching  was 
now  of  quite  secondary  value,  for  it  had  no  light 
to  throw  on  those  mysterious  events  in  which 
his  life  had  culminated.  But  if  we  accept  the 
Gospel  evidence — and  on  this  point  there  is  no 
valid  reason  to  doubt  it — he  had  himself  contem- 
plated these  events  and  had  related  them  to  his 
message.  In  his  later  ministry  he  had  foretold 
them  to  his  disciples,  and  had  taught  that  they 
were  integral  with  his  mission  as  a  whole.  It  was 
this,  indeed,  that  gave  significance  to  the  resur- 
rection, which  would  otherwise  have  been  nothing 
but  a  marvellous  and  inexplicable  fact.  It  brought 
to  a  focus  the  whole  w^ork  of  Jesus.  Instead  of 
obscuring  that  message  of  the  kingdom  which  had 
occupied  him  in  his  lifetime,  it  confirmed  and  il- 
luminated it  and  filled  it  with  new  meaning. 

From  this  point  of  view  we  can  understand  how 
the  church  was  the  outcome  of  the  belief  in  the 
resurrection.  Jesus  had  taught  that  the  kingdom 
was  at  hand,  that  he  himself  was  the  destined 
Messiah  who  would  bring  it  in,  that  through  death 
he  would  be  exalted  to  his  Messianic  oflBce.  The 
resurrection  was  evidence  to  the  disciples  that  all 
had  happened  as  he  had  foretold.  He  had  now 
attained  to  the  Messiahship;  yet  a  little  time  and 
he  would  return  in  power  to  inaugurate  the  king- 
dom. But  for  the  followers  of  Jesus  this  coming 
of  the  kingdom  was  fraught  with  a  special  sig- 
nificance.    He  had  promised  them  a  part  in  the 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  261 

great  future,  and  the  knowledge  that  he  had 
risen,  confirming  as  it  did  his  message  of  the  king- 
dom, filled  them  with  an  absorbing  consciousness 
of  their  own  vocation.  The  new  age  was  at  hand, 
and  they  had  been  chosen  to  possess  it.  By  this 
very  fact  they  were  withdrawn  from  the  old 
order  and  were  consecrated  as  a  people  by  them- 
selves— the  new  community  of  the  kingdom.  The 
belief  in  the  resurrection  thus  issued  of  its  own 
accord  in  the  formation  of  the  church. 

One  point  has  here  been  touched  on  which  it 
may  be  necessary  to  emphasise  a  little  further. 
The  assumption  is  generally  made,  by  writers  on 
the  apostolic  age,  that  the  church  came  into 
existence  by  a  gradual  process.  First  of  all,  the 
belief  that  Jesus  had  risen  impressed  itself  on  a 
number  of  his  followers,  and  they  were  thus  won 
to  the  conviction  that  he  was,  indeed,  the  Messiah. 
To  support  one  another  in  their  common  faith 
they  formed  themselves  into  a  society  which  by 
degrees  became  more  highly  organised  and  adopted 
certain  customs  and  institutions.  In  the  course 
of  time  the  interests  of  Christian  men  were  more 
and  more  involved  in  the  society  until  at  last  it 
acquired  a  religious  significance  of  its  own.  But 
this  account  of  the  origin  of  the  church  is  not 
borne  out  by  the  historical  facts.  From  the  very 
beginning,  so  far  as  we  can  gather  from  our 
records,    the    believers    were    all    united    in    a 


262         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

brotherhood.  Their  union  with  one  another  did 
not  come  about  gradually  through  the  faith  they 
held  in  common,  but  was  essentially  bound  up 
with  it.  Faith  in  Christ,  by  its  very  nature,  im- 
plied a  connection  with  the  brotherhood.  This 
intimate  relation  of  personal  faith  and  fellowship 
with  the  brethren  was  pointedly  expressed  in  the 
rite  of  baptism,  wherein  the  convert  made  solemn 
confession  of  his  belief  in  Jesus  and  by  so  doing 
was  constituted  a  member  of  the  community.  The 
Christian  mission  itself  bears  witness  to  this 
interrelation  of  faith  and  the  idea  of  the  church. 
The  missionaries  were  not  independent  teachers 
intent  solely  on  awakening  conviction  in  many 
individual  minds.  They  were  emissaries  of  the 
church  working  in  its  name  and  for  its  interest. 
Wherever  they  went  they  sought  to  create  a 
living  portion  of  the  Ecclesia.  Their  converts 
might  be  only  a  handful,  gathering  for  worship  in 
the  room  of  a  private  house,  but  they  were  taught 
to  regard  themselves  as  the  church  in  that  house 
— the  Ecclesia  in  miniature.  To  the  early  Chris- 
tian mind  a  purely  individual  faith  seems  to  have 
been  unthinkable.  So  far  from  developing  grad- 
ually by  a  historical  process,  the  church  was  a 
primary  fact  in  Christianity.  All  that  was  per- 
sonal in  the  faith  and  lives  of  the  believers  was 
rooted  in  a  communal  consciousness. 

This  mood  will  become  more  intelligible  if  two 
considerations  are  borne  in  mind.     On  the  one 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  263 

hand,  our  religion  grew  up  under  the  conditions 
of  ancient  thought,  in  which  the  individual  had 
not  yet  come  to  his  own.  It  is  true  that  Chris- 
tianity secured  a  new  value  for  the  individual. 
Jesus  had  declared,  in  many  a  memorable  saying, 
that  all  men  stand  in  a  personal  relation  to  God 
and  that  his  providence  takes  account  of  them 
one  by  one.  None  the  less,  it  was  impossible  all 
at  once  to  liberate  this  new  conception  from  the 
collectivism  which  was  instinctive  to  the  ancient 
mind.  For  the  Jews,  more  especially,  the  tribal 
idea  had  won  its  way  into  the  very  substance  of 
religion.  The  object  of  God's  choice  had  been 
Israel  as  a  people,  and  individual  Israelites  had 
access  to  him  as  members  of  the  chosen  nation. 
On  the  other  hand — and  this  was  the  decisive 
factor  in  early  Christian  thought — Jesus  himself, 
with  all  his  insistence  on  the  worth  of  the  individ- 
ual, had  kept  before  him  the  idea  of  a  redeemed 
community.  He  had  proclaimed  the  new  age  in 
which  God  would  be  served  by  a  people  wrought 
into  harmony  with  his  will.  He  had  formed  his 
disciples  into  a  brotherhood,  thinking  and  work- 
ing together,  that  they  might  be  the  nucleus  of 
that  community  of  the  future.  When  they  were 
assured,  therefore,  by  their  visions  of  the  risen 
Jesus  that  he  had  now  entered  on  his  Messiah- 
ship  their  faith  in  him  was  inseparable  from  the 
sense  of  their  common  vocation.  He  had  called 
them  to  be  the  new  people  of  God.    They  were 


264         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

members  of  one  body  and  were  conscious,  in- 
dividually, of  a  higher  life  through  their  union 
with  one  another. 

The  church  of  the  first  days  must  not,  indeed,  be 
confounded  with  that  of  later  Christian  history. 
It  was  not  an  organisation  equipped  for  a  def- 
inite task  in  this  world,  but  the  brotherhood  of 
those  who  had  identified  themselves  with  the  age 
to  come.  Jesus  had  himself  declared  that  the  old 
social  order,  with  its  outward  rules  and  author- 
ities, would  presently  disappear  and  would  give 
place  to  another  in  which  the  will  of  God  would  be 
all  in  all.  His  disciples  sought  to  anticipate  this 
future  order.  They  acknowledged  no  forms  of 
government  or  stated  officers;  they  held  all  things 
in  common;  they  were  bound  together  by  no 
visible  and  artificial  ties.  The  idea  of  building 
up  a  great  institution,  such  as  the  church  became 
in  a  subsequent  age,  was  utterly  foreign  to  their 
minds.  They  were  simply  the  new  community 
maintaining  itself  for  a  little  while  under  earthly 
conditions  until  the  kingdom  should  break  in. 

The  nature  of  the  Christian  society  is  defined 
in  its  name  "the  Ecclesia,"  a  name  which  has  a 
twofold  significance,  (a)  It  denoted  the  true 
Israel  to  which  had  descended  the  calling  and 
the  privileges  of  God^s  chosen  people.  A  dis- 
tinction had  long  ago  been  drawn  by  the  prophets 
between  the  nation  as  a  whole  and  the  "remnant" 
— the  true  servants  of  God  who,  in  his  sight,  were 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  265 

the  nation.  The  church  conceived  itself  to  be  the 
"remnant"  and  laid  claim  on  this  ground  to  a 
continuity  with  the  ancient  Israel.  In  one  sense 
it  was  no  new  creation  but  had  existed  ever  since 
God  had  first  chosen  for  himself  a  people.  When 
the  kingdom  arrived  the  faithful  of  the  past  would 
be  raised  to  life  again  and  would  form  one  com- 
munity with  the  believers  in  Christ.  This  con- 
ception of  an  Israel  of  God  with  which  the  church 
was  continuous  was  of  cardinal  importance  in  the 
earliest  Christian  thought;  for  only  by  means  of 
it  could  the  church  establish  its  right  in  the  Old 
Testament  promises.  The  disciples  had  broken 
with  Jewish  nationalism  and  the  religion  of  the 
Law  had  become  meaningless  to  them;  yet  they 
shrank  from  the  inevitable  separation.  A  feeling 
persisted  that  the  new  Israel  derived  its  prerog- 
ative through  the  actual  Israel  and  might  forfeit 
its  title  if  it  freed  itself  entirely  from  the  Law. 

(6)  But  while  it  was  the  true  Israel  the  church 
was  also  the  community  of  the  kingdom.  It  was 
continuous  with  the  Ecclesia  of  the  past;  but  now 
that  Jesus  had  risen  to  his  Messiahship  all  things 
had  become  different.  The  inheritance  which  was 
formerly  the  object  of  hope  and  longing  had  drawn 
near,  and  the  church  was  entering  into  it.  Iden- 
tified as  it  was  with  the  new  order,  there  was 
something  supernatural  in  its  character.  It  was 
endowed  with  higher  attributes  and  was  con- 
scious of  a  divine  power  inspiring  and  controlling 


266        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

it.  This  consciousness  found  expression  in  the 
doctrine  of  the  Spirit  which  coloured  all  the 
thought  and  life  of  primitive  Christianity.  A 
belief  had  been  current,  ever  since  the  time  of  the 
prophets,  that  when  the  new  age  arrived  a  power 
from  on  high,  corresponding  with  their  new 
status,  would  be  poured  out  on  God's  people.  In 
former  times  it  had  been  imparted  at  rare  inter- 
vals to  chosen  individuals,  but  in  the  latter  days 
it  would  be  shared  by  the  whole  community.  By 
means  of  it  men  would  be  brought  to  a  closer  re- 
lation to  God,  to  a  fuller  knowledge  of  him,  to 
the  exercise  of  higher  gifts  and  activities.  The 
church  was  assured  that  it  had  now  received  this 
Spirit.  Its  operation  was  discerned  in  the  strange 
phenomena  that  manifested  themselves  in  Chris- 
tian worship;  but  these  were  regarded  as  only  the 
index  of  a  new  energy  pervading  the  Christian  life. 
The  Spirit,  present  in  the  believer,  transformed 
his  entire  nature  and  impressed  a  new  character 
on  all  his  action.  And  though  its  gifts  were  mani- 
fold and  were  bestowed  in  varying  measure,  all 
had  received  their  part  in  them.  In  the  last  resort 
the  Spirit  was  the  possession  not  of  individual 
men  but  of  the  whole  church.  It  was  like  the 
vital  principle  diffused  through  the  body,  and 
quickening  the  different  members  because  of  their 
union  with  the  body.  Underlying  the  doctrine  of 
the  Spirit  we  can  discover  that  communal  con- 
sciousness in  which  all  primitive  Christian  think- 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  267 

ing  was  involved.  The  individual  believers  were 
bound  up  with  the  church.  They  claimed  to 
possess  the  Spirit  in  so  far  as  they  belonged  to 
the  spiritual  community  which  God  had  chosen 
for  his  kingdom. 

There  is  no  ground,  then,  for  the  hypothesis, 
often  assumed  as  self-evident,  that  after  the  death 
of  Jesus  his  message  was  practically  forgotten  and 
he  himself  became  the  one  interest  of  faith.  It 
may  be  gathered,  rather,  that  personal  devotion 
to  Jesus  was  a  later  development.  At  the  outset 
the  disciples  were  absorbed  in  the  hope  of  the 
kingdom  which  he  had  foretold,  and  out  of  that 
hope  the  church  was  born.  But  while  the  message 
of  Jesus  was  thus  primary,  it  was  connected  in- 
separably with  Jesus  himself.  The  more  it  was 
cherished,  the  more  clearly  he  stood  out  in  his  own 
person  as  the  centre  and  foundation  of  the  Chris- 
tian life.  (1)  A  new  value  revealed  itself  even  in 
his  earthly  ministry.  He  had  proclaimed  the 
kingdom  and  had  set  forth  its  nature  and  the  re- 
quirements of  its  moral  order.  For  the  disciples 
his  teaching  was  now  authoritative.  Their  expec- 
tation of  the  kingdom,  instead  of  making  them  for- 
getful of  the  life  of  Jesus,  served  only  to  enhance 
its  significance.  He  was  the  prophet  of  the  way — 
the  teacher  of  the  new  righteousness.  A  duty  was 
laid  on  all  who  sought  the  kingdom  to  keep  his 
words  and  example  ever  before  them,  for  thus 


268        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

alone  could  they  conform  their  lives  to  that 
higher  law  which  would  obtain  hereafter.  We 
mistake  the  whole  character  of  early  Christian- 
ity if  we  forget  that  the  mood  of  enthusiasm  was 
accompanied  by  a  conscious  imitation  of  Jesus. 
This  practical  obedience  to  him  was  nothing,  in- 
deed, but  the  other  side  of  the  apocalyptic  hope. 
(2)  In  the  knowledge  that  he  was  now  clothed  with 
power  his  followers  had  the  assurance  that  the 
kingdom  was  at  hand  and  that  they 'were  des- 
tined to  have  part  in  it.  The  belief  in  Jesus' 
Messiahship  was  thus  the  keystone  of  the  entire 
structure  of  Christianity.  Faith  directed  itself 
to  him,  for  apart  from  him  there  could  be  no  hope 
of  the  kingdom,  no  Ecclesia,  no  participation  in 
the  Spirit.  (3)  His  Parousia  was  to  give  the'^sig- 
nal  for  the  final  consummation.  Although  the 
inheritance  was  certain,  it  was  still  in  the  future 
and  could  not  be  fully  realised  until  Jesus  re- 
turned to  fulfil  his  work.  Thus  the  hope  of  the 
kingdom  resolved  itself  into  a  waiting  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  Christ.  This  was  the  habitual  mood 
of  the  believer,  and  out  of  it  grew  the  feeling  that 
the  Christian  life  was  incorporated  with  Christ 
and  could  only  attain  its  fruition  through  him. 
"Ye  are  dead,'*  says  Paul,  "and  your  life  is  hid 
with  Christ  in  God.  When  Christ  who  is  our  life 
shall  appear,  then  we  also  shall  appear  with  him 
in  glory."  * 

*  Col.  3  :  3,  4. 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  269 

This  central  position  assigned  to  Jesus  was 
marked  by  the  title  KvpLo<;,  which  seems  even  in 
the  earliest  days  to  have  displaced  that  of  Mes- 
siah. It  has  to  be  understood  primarily  as  con- 
noting the  relation  of  Jesus  to  the  church.  The 
world  at  large  had  no  portion  in  him  and  could 
never  know  him  except  as  judge,  but  the  church 
was  his  own  community  within  which  he  reigned. 
To  invoke  him  by  the  name  of  Lord  was  evidence 
that  you  belonged  to  his  people  and  partook  in 
their  privileges  and  obligations.  The  initiatory 
rite  of  baptism  was  sealed  by  the  confession, 
"Jesus  is  Lord."  By  the  act  of  making  that  con- 
fession a  man  severed  himself  from  the  old  order 
and  became  one  with  the  new  community  of  the 
kingdom.  But  this  entrance  into  the  community 
involved  a  personal  relation  to  Jesus.  Acknowl- 
edging him  as  Lord,  you  subjected  yourself  to  his 
will  and  gave  your  life  into  his  keeping  and  were 
conscious  of  his  abiding  fellowship.  Faith  in 
Jesus  was  much  more  than  the  bare  recognition 
of  his  claim  to  be  the  Messiah.  To  the  primitive 
church,  as  to  Paul,  it  was  the  decisive  factor  in 
Christianity;  for  it  signified  a  changed  attitude 
of  the  will — a  new  direction  given  to  the  whole 
life.  The  belief  in  Jesus  was  inseparable  from  that 
entire  surrender  to  him  which  was  implied  in  the 
confession,  "Jesus  is  Lord." 

More  than  once  in  the  New  Testament  the  mem- 
bers of  the  church  are  described  by  the  peculiar 


270         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

name,  "those  who  call  upon  the  name  of  the 
Lord  "  (ot  iTTLKokovfievoL  to  ovofia  rod  KvpCov)*  The 
Greek  word  here  employed  seems  to  suggest  the 
practice  of  actual  prayer  to  Jesus,  and  some  have 
inferred  that  even  in  the  earliest  period  he  was 
regarded  as  a  divine  being.  If  this  were  so,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  suppose  that  Christianity 
was  affected  from  the  outset  by  some  alien  influ- 
ence, for  within  the  pale  of  Jewish  monotheism 
such  an  encroachment  on  the  prerogative  of  God 
is  hardly  conceivable.  It  may  be  questioned, 
however,  whether  the  evidence  for  prayer  to 
Jesus  has  not  been  overpressed  by  modern 
writers  anxious  to  discover  a  foreign  element  in 
even  the  earliest  Christian  worship.  That  the 
regular  custom  was  to  address  prayer  directly  to 
God  is  attested  by  numberless  passages  in  the 
Acts  and  Epistles.  The  only  clear  exceptions 
are  the  dying  words  of  Stephen,  "Lord  Jesus,  re- 
ceive my  spirit,"  f  and  the  pathetic  allusion  of 
Paul  to  his  thorn  in  the  flesh :  "  For  this  thing  I 
besought  the  Lord  thrice  that  it  might  depart 
from  me."  %  In  neither  case  do  we  seem  to  have 
reference  to  actual  prayer.  His  disciples  address 
themselves  to  Jesus,  not  because  they  think  of  him 
as  another  God,  but  because  they  realise  so  in- 
tensely his  living  presence.  They  know  him  as 
the  Friend  and  Protector  with  whom  they  can 

*  Romans  10  :  12;  10  :  13;  I  Cor.  1  :  2. 

t  Acts  7:  59.  J  II  Cor.  12  :  8. 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  271 

hold  converse,  and  to  whom  they  instinctively 
appeal  in  the  hour  of  need.  It  is  surely  beside 
the  mark  to  detect  theological  motives  and  anal- 
ogies with  heathen  custom  in  those  colloquies 
with  the  risen  Jesus  which  were  natural  to  the  en- 
thusiastic piety  of  the  early  days.  What,  then, 
was  the  nature  of  that  "calling  on  the  name  of 
Jesus"  which  was  the  characteristic  mark  of  be- 
lievers? Perhaps  the  true  explanation  is  to  be 
sought  in  one  or  two  passages  which  connect  it 
more  definitely  with  the  rite  of  baptism.*  The 
rite  was  accompanied  with  the  confession,  "  Jesus 
is  Lord,''  and  by  so  confessing  him  the  convert 
surrendered  himself  to  Jesus  and  was  brought 
under  his  power  and  guardianship.  He  was 
henceforth  one  of  the  elect  community  with  the 
right  to  address  Jesus  as  "Lord."  His  confession 
of  that  "name"  was  itself  an  invocation,  insuring 
that  in  all  prayer  which  he  might  offer  he  would 
have  an  advocate  with  the  Father. 

If  the  results  of  our  inquiry  have  been  sub- 
stantially correct  the  ordinary  estimate  of  the  be- 
ginnings of  Christianity  stands  in  need  of  con- 
siderable revision.  It  may  be  well  to  indicate 
briefly  the  more  important  points  in  which  a 
modification  of  this  kind  seems  to  be  necessary. 
(1)  There  is  no  sharp  line  of  division,  such  as  is 
usually  drawn,  between  the  teaching  of  Jesus 
*  Romans  10  :  12,  13. 


272         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

and  that  of  the  primitive  church.  The  movement 
initiated  by  Jesus  was  continued  by  his  disciples. 
His  own  death,  so  far  from  arresting  it  or  turning 
it  in  a  new  direction,  served  only  to  give  it  a  fresh 
impetus  along  the  path  which  he  had  himself 
marked  out  for  it.  (2)  A  fuller  account  must  be 
taken  of  that  apocalyptic  atmosphere  which  was 
vital  to  early  Christianity.  All  writers  are  now 
agreed  that  the  disciples  lived  in  the  daily  expec- 
tation of  the  Parousia,  but  they  hardly  attempt 
to  realise  the  significance  of  that  fact.  They 
think  of  the  church,  in  the  first  ardour  of  its  tre- 
mendous hope,  as  nothing  but  an  obscure  religious 
society  painfully  struggling  for  a  foothold.  But 
we  have  to  look  not  so  much  at  the  mere  outward 
conditions  of  the  church  as  at  the  consciousness 
that  inspired  it.  Those  followers  of  Jesus,  in  their 
unnoticed  gatherings,  were  filled  with  the  confi- 
dence of  a  great  destiny.  They  believed  that  they 
would  presently  inherit  the  new  age  and  that  a 
supernatural  power  was  already  working  in  them. 
We  cannot  understand  the  primitive  history  un- 
less we  thus  read  it  from  within  in  the  light  of  the 
apocalyptic  hope.  (3)  The  church  began  not  as  a 
collection  of  individuals  united  in  the  same  faith 
but  as  a  community.  As  in  the  former  age  God 
had  chosen  for  himself  a  people,  so  in  his  kingdom 
he  would  ordain  a  people  to  serve  him.  It  had 
been  the  aim  of  Jesus  to  gather  around  him  this 
brotherhood  of  the  future,  and  after  his  death  his 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  273 

disciples  held  fast  to  the  communal  idea.  They 
constituted  the  true  Israel,  which  would  possess 
the  new  age  at  the  Lord's  coming.  The  powers 
and  privileges  to  which  they  laid  claim  belonged 
to  them  as  a  body  and  were  bestowed  on  the  in- 
dividual believer  in  so  far  as  he  was  a  member  of 
the  body.  In  the  process  of  time  the  church 
hardened  into  an  institution  framed  and  admin- 
istered like  any  earthly  society,  and  the  doctrine 
that  outside  of  it  there  could  be  no  salvation 
tended  to  warp  and  pervert  the  original  Chris- 
tian teaching.  But  the  doctrine  in  itself  was  no 
perversion.  From  the  beginning  the  Christian 
faith  was  identified  with  a  community  into  which 
men  required  to  be  adopted  before  they  could 
participate  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  (4)  Not- 
withstanding its  intimate  relation  with  the  parent 
religion,  there  never  was  a  time  when  the  church 
was  a  mere  sect  of  Judaism.  Assured  of  its  great 
calling,  it  felt  itself  to  transcend  the  nation.  It 
claimed  to  be  the  true  Israel  in  which  the  age- 
long travail  of  the  nation  had  reached  fulfilment. 
Outwardly,  it  is  true,  the  disciples  remained  faith- 
ful to  the  Law,  but  they  regarded  it  as  secondary 
and  non-essential.  They  were  conscious,  long 
before  the  days  of  Paul,  that  they  stood  for  a  new 
conception  of  religion  which  had  little  in  common 
with  the  reigning  Judaism.  It  is  significant  that 
of  the  recorded  sayings  of  Jesus  so  many  are  di- 
rected   against    the    scribes    and    Pharisees,  the 


274        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

acknowledged  representatives  of  the  Law.  The 
church  that  treasured  these  sayings  had  already 
grown  critical  of  the  Law,  and  the  final  break 
with  it  was  only  a  matter  of  time.  (5)  From  the 
primitive  community  at  Jerusalem  the  new  re- 
ligion derived  its  essential  beliefs  and  went  forth 
with  them  on  its  gentile  mission.  There  has  been 
a  tendency  in  recent  years  to  lay  increasing  em- 
phasis on  the  gentile  contribution.  According  to 
not  a  few  modern  writers,  historical  Christianity 
was  almost  wholly  the  product  of  alien  forces 
working  on  a  bare  nucleus  which  was  afforded  by 
the  faith  in  Jesus.  Now,  it  cannot  be  denied  that 
our  religion  underwent  profound  modifications 
when  it  was  brought  into  contact  with  gentile 
thought.  It  was  translated  out  of  the  language 
of  Jewish  apocalyptic  into  that  of  Hellenistic 
speculation,  and  the  change  of  form  in  large  mea- 
sure affected  its  substance.  But  the  main  function 
of  the  new  influences  was  to  interpret  and  eluci- 
date what  was  already  given.  Behind  all  the 
later  developments  we  can  discern  with  suflBcient 
clearness  those  cardinal  beliefs  which  had  come 
down  from  the  primitive  Apostles  and  ultimately 
from  Jesus  himself.  (6)  It  would  be  misleading 
to  speak  of  a  primitive  theology,  yet  the  earliest 
Christian  teaching  was  far  richer  in  its  content 
than  is  generally  assumed.  The  belief  that  Jesus 
was  the  Messiah,  which  is  sometimes  described 
as  the  one  distinctive  belief  of  the  first  disciples, 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  275 

itself  involved  a  complete  recasting  of  traditional 
Judaism.  It  was  bound  up  with  a  whole  com- 
plex of  new  ideas  which  found  their  place  along 
with  it  in  Christian  faith.  In  the  earliest  think- 
ing of  the  church,  although  it  is  known  to  us  in 
such  meagre  outline,  we  can  discover  the  roots 
of  almost  all  the  conceptions  which  grew  to 
maturity  in  the  century  following.  There  is  no 
evidence  that  Peter  and  his  companions  were 
men  of  exceptional  religious  genius,  and  in  many 
respects  their  horizon  was  a  very  limited  one. 
But  they  came  in  the  opening  years  when  the 
new  life  of  the  Spirit  was  at  its  flood.  They 
were  able  to  realise  their  gospel  in  something  of 
its  breadth  and  fulness  and  to  anticipate,  at  least 
in  glimpses,  the  results  of  the  time  to  come. 

The  chief  share  in  the  creating  of  a  theology 
out  of  the  intuitions  of  primitive  Christian  faith 
was  reserved  for  the  Apostle  Paul.  His  relation 
to  the  earlier  teaching  is  a  vast  and  intricate 
subject  which  could  not  be  adequately  discussed 
without  a  detailed  analysis  of  his  thought  in  all 
its  manifold  aspects  and  affinities.  For  such  an 
analysis,  even  if  it  lay  within  the  scope  of  the 
present  investigation,  the  data  are  not  yet  avail- 
able. We  need  a  fuller  and  more  accurate  knowl- 
edge of  Paul's  debt  to  Rabbinism,  to  Greek 
philosophy,  to  Oriental  religion  before  we  can 
sift  out  those  elements  in  his  teaching  which  he 
drew  from  the  native  Christian  tradition.      But 


276        THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

our  inquiry  has  tended  to  confirm  the  conviction, 
which  seems  to  be  growing  among  New  Testa- 
ment scholars,  that  Paul  is  not  to  be  regarded  as 
an  innovator,  much  less  as  "  the  second  founder  of 
Christianity.''  It  has  to  be  remembered  that  he 
began  his  work  in  close  alliance  with  the  Jerusa- 
lem church  and  that  Barnabas,  one  of  the  lead- 
ers of  that  church,  was  his  fellow  labourer.  For 
at  least  fourteen  years  no  serious  exception  was 
taken  to  his  teaching.  Again  and  again  in  his 
Epistles  he  manifests  his  anxiety  to  keep  in  line 
with  the  accepted  tradition,  and  indignantly 
spurns  the  possibility  that  there  may  be  "an- 
other gospel."  He  claims  that  what  had  come  to 
him  "by  revelation"  in  no  way  contradicts  the 
message  that  had  been  preached  by  the  elder 
Apostles.  In  one  sense  it  is  true  that  Paul  was 
a  creator.  He  had  been  drawn  to  Christianity 
through  a  unique  experience,  and  brought  to  its 
service  the  endowment  of  a  supreme  religious 
thinker.  On  everything  that  he  touched  he  left 
his  individual  impress  and  unconsciously  turned 
the  whole  stream  of  Christian  thought  into  new 
channels.  But  his  work,  as  it  appeared  to  his 
own  mind,  was  that  of  expounding  and  interpret- 
ing, and  we  have  no  fair  reason  to  doubt  that  he 
judged  of  himself  truly.  At  not  a  few  points  his 
dependence  on  the  tradition  is  certain,  and  we 
should  probably  find,  if  our  knowledge  extended 
far  enough,  that  he  is  building  almost  everywhere 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  277 

on  something  that  had  been  given  him.  It  is,  in- 
deed, futile  to  maintain,  as  some  have  done,  that 
Paul  was  nothing  but  a  docile  missionary  who 
faithfully  reproduced  what  he  had  received.  The 
teaching  of  the  church,  transmitting  itself  through 
his  great  personality,  could  not  but  undergo  a 
change  and  enrichment.  But  it  is  equally  false 
to  conceive  of  Paul  as  displacing  or  subverting 
the  earlier  Christianity.  We  ought  rather  to 
think  of  him  as  its  armed  soldier  through  whom 
it  came  to  its  own.  He  furnished  it  with  new 
categories  whereby  it  could  ally  itself  with  the 
larger  intellectual  movement  of  the  age.  He 
broke  the  bond  with  Judaism  which  had  pre- 
vented it  from  fully  asserting  its  inherent  prin- 
ciples. He  construed  as  reasoned  doctrine  the 
beliefs  which  had  rested  hitherto  on  the  surmise 
of  faith.  Without  Paul  Christianity  could  hardly 
have  achieved  its  victory;  but  the  gospel  which 
he  transformed  into  a  world-conquering  power  had 
in  substance  been  given  to  him  by  the  obscure 
church  of  the  early  days. 

Paul  was  the  heir  of  the  primitive  tradition, 
and  this,  in  turn,  was  the  immediate  outcome  of 
the  work  of  Jesus.  It  has  too  often  been  assumed 
— and  the  modern  reading  of  Christian  history 
has  been  largely  controlled  by  this  assumption — 
that  our  religion  was  separated  at  the  very  outset 
from  its  Founder.    In  the  disaster  that  overtook 


278         THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  THE  CHURCH 

him  his  message  also  perished,  and  his  name  was 
employed  henceforth  to  cover  a  new  movement 
which  he  himself  had  never  contemplated.  But 
historical  Christianity,  as  we  have  tried  to  show, 
cannot  thus  be  sundered  from  the  work  of  Jesus. 
His  disciples  took  up  his  message  of  the  kingdom 
and  gave  it  embodiment  in  the  beliefs  and  in- 
stitutions of  the  church.  They  apprehended  it 
in  the  apocalyptic  forms  under  which  he  had  pro- 
claimed it,  but  within  this  framework  they  pre- 
served its  essential  meaning.  They  associated 
the  coming  of  the  kingdom  with  a  closer  relation 
to  God,  a  higher  righteousness,  a  divine  Spirit 
renewing  the  lives  of  men.  And  as  the  teaching 
of  the  church  grew  out  of  the  work  of  Jesus,  so 
did  the  church  itself.  He  had  conceived  of  the 
people  of  the  kingdom  as  forming  a  new  commu- 
nity bound  together  in  mutual  love  and  service, 
and  had  called  his  disciples  as  the  first-fruits  of 
this  future  brotherhood.  After  his  death  they 
maintained  their  fellowship.  Their  individual 
faith  was  grounded  in  the  sense  of  a  common  in- 
heritance in  that  kingdom  which  he  was  pres- 
ently to  inaugurate.  The  church  of  a  later  time, 
with  its  discipline  and  hierarchies,  bore  little  re- 
semblance to  this  brotherhood  of  the  first  days, 
yet  it  rose  out  of  it  by  a  natural  development 
and  has  never  entirely  forgotten  its  origin.  At 
the  heart  of  it  there  has  ever  persisted  the  idea 
that  it  is  the  communion  of  God's  people,  sepa- 


THE  EARLIEST  CHRISTIANITY  279 

rated  from  the  world  and  waiting  for  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  higher  order.  It  would  be  mournful 
to  think  that  the  purpose  of  Jesus  was  frustrated 
at  the  beginning  and  that  the  whole  labour  of  the 
Christian  ages  has  rested  on  a  misconception. 
From  our  study  of  the  initial  period  we  may  con- 
clude that  such  a  theory  is  historically  false. 
There  was  no  gulf  between  Jesus  and  the  church 
that  followed  him.  His  work  was  continued  by 
those  who  had  understood  his  message  and  who 
built  on  the  foundation  which  he  himself  had  laid. 


INDEX 


Acts,  plan  op,  6 
Acts,  sources  of,  23 
Adonis,  95 
Agape,  199 
Ananias,  138,  140 
Antioch,  dispute  at,  120 
Apostles,  147/. 
Apostles'  creed,  180 
Appearances  of  Jesus,  9^.,  159 
Aramaic,  98 

Bacon,  226,  239 
Baptism,  162  J'. 
Barnabas,  131,  138,  140 
BatifPol,  35 
Beatitudes,  155 
Behm,  215 
Believers,  106 
Breaking  of  bread,  198 
Brotherhood,  133  /.,  184 
Brotherly  love,  135 
Bruckner,  91 

CiESAR-WORSHIP,  96 

Camisards,  73 
Circumcision,  186 
Community,  the  new,  42^., 

77,  105  and  passim 
Community  of  goods,  137/. 
Confession,    baptismal,    98, 

105,  180/.,  269 
Cornelius,  188 
Council,  Jewish,  117,  233 

Daniel,  book  of,  47 
Deissmann,  214 
Diatheke,  214/. 
Dibelius,  214 
Didache,  155,  175,  209 
Disciples,  29 
Dispersion,  119 


281 


Ecclesia,  29#.,  113,  241,  264 

and  passim 
Ephesians,  epistle  to,  45 
Equahty,  gospel  of,  139 
Essenes,  118,  136,  166 
Exorcism,  178 

Faith,  106,  122,  130 

Gamaliel,  117 
Gfrorer,  238 
Glossolalia,  60  /.,  71 
Government  of  the  church, 
144/. 

Hatch,  32 

Hebrews,  epistle  to,  39,  248 
Heitmiiller,  175,  201,  207 
Hellenists,  228,  244 
Herod  Agrippa,  120,  253 

Instruction,  156/. 
Interim  ethic,  153 
Irvingite  movement,  73 
Isaiah,  66 
Israel,  36  #.,  114,263 

James,  104,  149,  253 
James,  epistle  of,  5,  39 
Jerusalem,  council  of,  124  J'. 
Jerusalem,  settlement  at,  20, 

136 
Joel,  65 

Johannine  writings,  164,  232 
John  the  Baptist,  94, 129, 167 
Judaists,  122 

Kingdom  op  God,  42/.,  69, 88 

Law,  40,  115  #. 

Life  of  Jesus,  92 


282 


INDEX 


Logos,  88 
Lombard,  73 
Lord,  Jesus  as,  84  ff.^  185 
Lord's  Prayer,  153 
Lord's  Supper,  88,  104,  159, 
192  #. 

Magic,  178 

Maranatha,  98 

Matthew,  gospel  of,  31,  51 

Matthias,  22 

Maurenbrecher,  99 

Messianic  banquet,  208 

Messianic  doctrine,  14/.,  18, 

88/.,  257/. 
Millennium,  103 
Miracles,  68 
Mithra,  95 
Morahty,  92 
Mosiman,  73 
Mysteries,  163 
Mysticism,  13 

Name  op  Jesus,  174/. 
New  birth,  187 
New  commandment,  135 
New  law,  48,  159 

Oriental  cults,  14,  67,  96, 
101 

Palestinian  church,  139 
Papyri,  95,  176 
Parousia,  159,  268 
Passover  meal,  196,  204  /. 
Paul,  2,  3,  7,  12,  86,  90,  and 

passim 
Pentecost,  58  /.,  165 
Peter,  120,  145,  148/. 
Peter,  epistles  of,  6 
Peter,  promise  to,  51 
Peter,  speeches  of,  16,  38,  87, 

97,  110,  113 
PhiHp,  231 
Philo,  61,  118 
Prayer  to  Jesus,  270 


Prophecy,  64 

Proselytes,  baptism  of,  166 

Qahal,  32 

Reign  op  Messiah,  102 
Remnant,  37,  47,  103,  129, 

265 
Renunciation,  144 
Repentance,  173 
Resurrection,  9  ff. 
Revelation,  book  of,  103 
RevUle,  201,  214 

Sacred  meal,  193 

Saints,  36 

Sayings  of  Jesus,  157/. 

Schumacher,  239 

Schiirer,  34 

Seeberg,  154 

Serapis,  95 

Sermon  on  the  Mount,  159 

Sohm,  32 

Son  of  man,  237 

Spirit,  doctrine  of,  62^.,  130, 

146,  266 
Spirit,  gift  of,  57  ff.,  187 
Spiritual  phenomena,  58  /. 
Spitta,  20,  201,  238 
Stephen,  27,  117,  224  #. 
Stoning,  233 
Synagogue,  32 

Teaching  of  Jesus,  152 
Temple,  21,  240/. 
Tradition,  primitive,  97 
Twelve,  the,  145  /. 

Universality  op  gospel,  52 

VoLz,  62 

Way,  the,  151 
Wealth  and  poverty,  139 
Weiss,  207 
Wellhausen,  207 
Wrede,  91 


Date  Due 


